Tea And Sympathy
by mutantsrocktheworld
Summary: Probably the first Hatter/Harley ever. Harley has just broken up with ONE supervillain, she is not falling in love with another... is she? T for possible later chapters. Now with Scarecrow/OC as well.
1. Chapter 1

**This is possibly the first Hatter/Harley ever. Don't get me wrong, I love Alice/Jervis and can't get enough of it, but there is a little Hatter/Harley bug that lives in my room and wouldn't stop biting me until I wrote this.**

**Disclaimer: Raenef(from Demon Diaries)**

**I don't know whether she owns this or not, but I was bribed-**

**Me: Raenef, ixnay on the ribedbay…**

**R: I was justly and honorably convinced to say that she doesn't own - doesn't own - ummm…**

**Me: DC Comics, Warner Brothers, or the largest chocolate milk shake in the world. Thanks for the big help, Rae. **

**R: I tried… (vanishes in a puff of brimstony smoke)**

**In advance, I'm saying that any weird italics, caps, or bold typefaces are not my fault. I'm new to this and the way it works is kinda freaky.**

**P. S: If you don't R&R, first I'll cry, then I won't be able to write, then I'll come back and haunt you. So there. **

Tea and Sympathy

The Mad Hatter was not asleep when someone knocked on the door of the abandoned bookstore he was using as a temporary hideout - he slept little - but was still slightly irritated at someone deciding to drop by at one thirty-five in the morning. Hastily pulling on his coat and making sure his cards were easily to hand, he decided that it was either Batman or one of the other Arkham escapees; Batman most likely would not have not knocked, though.

His annoyance vanished when he cautiously opened the door to find Harley Quinn standing outside; it was raining, but he could still see that she was crying, the tears making tracks in her heavy makeup. He opened the door wider, gesturing to her to enter.

"My dear child, come in! What has happened?"

She was dripping, her skintight costume soaked through, but she did not seem to notice or care. At Jervis' question her weeping only intensified. He felt slightly helpless; he never knew quite what to do around women, especially when they were emotional. There was one thing that should help that he knew of, though…

"Miss Quinn, you should sit down in front of the fire, I'll get some tea and you can talk when you're ready, all right?"

She managed a shaky smile as he led her into the back room; he was glad it had a real fire, not one of the imitation gas ones that everyone seemed so enamored of these days. "Th-th-anks, Jervis," she stuttered, hiccupping slightly. "You're very k-kind."

"Pish tosh, my dear." He reddened slightly at her compliment; she was one of the only people that was ever nice to him. "You get dried off and I'll be back shortly."

* * * * *

"So, tell me what happened."

Harley had calmed down with the administration of tea, and she told her story in a trembling voice. It was mostly the same as the ones he had heard a few times before; she had made a mistake on a job, made the further mistake of trying to stand up to the Joker about it (this she cited as Poison Ivy's advice, and Jervis decided that he and Ivy really needed to have a talk) and it had ended, as it did always, with the Joker throwing her out on her ear. Except that this time, for her defiance and because he was in a particularly foul temper, he had told her not to come back. Jervis felt white-hot anger kindle in him as he assessed her bruises; what kind of cad would do that to an innocent girl like Harley?

"Red's in Arkham, so I came here," concluded Harley, blowing her nose. "You've always been so nice to me, Jervis."

He found himself blushing again. "Well, my dear, if you are resolved to try going back to him eventually -"

"I know Red says it's stupid, but I love him." Harley sniffed. "And I think that he loves me, really."

Jervis sighed. He could see nothing he could say would change her mind. "Then I suggest you wait for him to make the first move."

"Huh?"

"When he wants to find you, he'll find you. If this time you make him come and get you, instead of crawling back to him, you'll be able to remind him of that next time he gets angry with you."

It took a few minutes for her brain to process the idea; you could practically see the wheels turning. Her face lit up when she figured it out, then fell again. "I don't have anyplace to stay."

"I suppose… you could stay here, if you would like…" He wasn't sure how she would react to the suggestion; he thought it a little improper, but there was nothing between them but friendship. However, he didn't know if she would see it that way.

He needn't have worried. Her face lit up again quicker than it had fallen. "Really? Thanks!"

* * * * *

At five o' clock in the morning, after arranging a small storeroom into temporary housing for Harley, she finally fell asleep. Jervis stood in the doorway looking at her for a moment; the tracks of her tears down her cheeks, the shadowy bruises on her face. For a moment his vision blurred, and he saw her long blonde hair let loose and her slim, petite build with a sense of déjà vu; then he shook off the illusion and turned to go get some rest himself.

He was so exhausted that he fell asleep immediately instead of his usual method of lying with his eyes closed and catching quick, short bouts of sleep to avoid the very thing into which he was now plunged; one of his nightmares.

_There was a cat sitting across from him, a purple cat with yellow eyes, but it was not grinning. "Who are you?" it asked._

_He couldn't answer, his thoughts in a turmoil. Hadn't his name used to have been Jarvis, or something like that? But he was partially the Hatter too. He opened his hands, palms up, in a gesture of defeat. "I don't know."_

"_You can't give up now. Who are you? You can't even exist if you don't know the answer."_

"_I don't KNOW!" Thinking about it was a terrible pressure on his mind, fractioning into shards of agony when the cat persisted with its relentless questioning. The place they were in was changing in eye-searing flashes, each weird, off-kilter landscape appearing for only a moment before shattering into scraps of color. _

_In a few seconds the cat was gone, but the strange shifting continued, a little slower. He crashed painfully to his knees on a stone floor._

"_The Mad Hatter with nightmares? Ain't it funny!" He knew that high, sneering, voice, as well as the shrieking laugh that followed it. Forgetting his fear for a moment with rage, he shoved himself to his feet to find Batgirl sitting on a huge mushroom in front of him, holding a flower. "You really should learn to control yourself," she said reprovingly as he stared at her in shock "You've woken him."_

_She turned her gaze to the wood that they were suddenly next to just before a horrible noise rang out. He couldn't help but think "_That's _burbling? What an inadequate word" even as he ran. _

"_You'll have to go much faster than that," said the Cheshire Cat, sitting beside him and licking its paws, "in here you have to run twice as fast as you possibly can to get anywhere."_

_* * * * * _

Wondering what was taking Jervis so long to get up (she had woken up an hour ago) Harley poked her head into the back room. "Jervis?"

* * * * *

_He had tripped and fallen twice before, but this time he lacked the strength to get on his feet. Pulling himself into a sitting position against the trunk of a tree, he let his ragged breathing slow and listened to the Jabberwock drawing closer in defeat. _

"_You're giving up?" The cat sounded annoyed, as if it had expected more._

"_I have to. I can't fight it."_

_The cat sighed. "You should have brought her along. She has it. But it's too late now, the Jabberwock's already here."_

_* * * * *_

Harley gave a little gasp as she saw Jervis. He was moving his head restlessly on his pillow, muttering something under his breath; his face was drawn and distressed. She shot over to his side. "Wake up!"

* * * * *

_The thing was barely visible through the trees when the ground started shaking violently. "What is it? The Jabberwock isn't causing this!" he yelled at the cat, who was clinging to a tree branch. _

"_You mean WHO is it!"_

"_Who is it?"_

_The cat called something back, but at the same time a very odd sensation rushed through him, as if he was a cork rising to the surface of water, and all he was left with as the twisted Wonderland of his dreams released him was a conviction._

"_L, I knew it began with L!"_

_* * * * *_

Harley was violently shaking the Hatter when he bolted upright, nearly struck her in the instinct that lies deeply in some people to strike out at the nearest thing when they wake up, and froze just in time, staring at her.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

"Ahh!" he said eloquently, scooting away from her. "I- I mean, you- you, well- er-"

Surprised, Harley looked down at her miniskirt and low-necked tank top ensemble. "What's wrong with me?"

He clutched the blanket to his chest. "Miss Quinn!"

Light dawned on Harley's face as she looked from her outfit to the red-faced Hatter, who was wearing only pajama bottoms due to the hot weather. "Ohhh. Sorry. Er, I'll let you get dressed… were you having a bad dream?"

A shadow crossed his face. "Yes."

"Oh. Sorry…" She moved out of the room uncertainly, glancing back at him a couple times. He looked weary, his shoulders slumped and bright yellow hair hanging into his blue eyes as he stared at something only he could see.

"Poor guy," Harley muttered to herself as she tried to locate the kitchen. True, it was a halfway-revamped bookstore, but there had to be somewhere he prepared food.

By the time Jervis was dressed, Harley was to the point of thinking 'hadn't there?'

"Jervis, don't you have food?"

"Hm?" He glanced up at her; he had gotten straight back to work on a new form of microchip that he was designing. "Oh. Well… I think there are some cans of things in the back… somewhere…"

"No wonder you don't look very healthy! That stuff's no better than the icky stuff they give us in Arkham!"

"Well, I can't cook; believe me, I would prefer to eat differently when I do eat, but-"

"When you do eat?'"

"Sometimes I forget."

Harley shuddered. "It's a good thing I came along. I'm going to go get some real food."

He watched her peek out the peephole, then slip into the street. She had exchanged her scandalous clothing of before for a pink dress with a skirt down to her knees and had pulled her hair back in a ponytail; she skipped down the road in such a carefree manner that she could have been an eight-year-old in her grandmother's garden. After a minute he returned to the microchip, which was being stubborn.

"Now look here," he addressed it sensibly "there is really nothing in it for you if you don't cooperate."

* * * * *

He wasn't sure quite how long it was before Harley appeared next to him, staring at the little object in his hands with interest. "Watcha makin'?"

"Hello, Miss Quinn. It's a chip specifically for getting across language barriers - not just human ones, but the ones between human and animal too."

"If ya made it plant, human and animal Red would have a ball," Harley giggled. "Or animal, vegetable, mineral. How close are you to getting it to work?"

"Alas, technology has a sense of humor. I might be working on this for the next year or so."

"Bummer. Oh yeah! I came to tell you I made some breakfast, do you want me to bring you some? I made scones!"

"Thank you, Miss Quinn."

"Call me Harley, everyone does."

After she brought him some food she located an extra chair and sat to watch him work. Although she tried to remain silent her hyperactive nature had her bursting out with a question every few seconds, but he didn't mind; it flattered him that she was interested. It was a couple hours later that she yawned, covering her mouth politely; he would not have noticed anything had the shawl draped around her shoulders not slipped and he glimpsed some strange markings on her arm. Without thinking, he reached out and took her hand, pushing the cloth back from her arm. "What is this?"

Several long scars slanted across her skin. They were from shallow cuts, and the Hatter knew who had given her them. His blue eyes narrowed.

"Harley, after that- that- bandersnatch of a clown did this to you, you would still return to him?" He couldn't understand it. Why did women always seem to attach themselves to someone who would never treat them well or respect and love them for what they were?

She pulled her hand away, and he realized that he had been gripping it. "It was my fault. I messed up and we nearly got captured."

"The Joker did this to you, did he not?"

"Yes…"

"Then it was not your fault."

There was a minute of silence; Harley was staring down at her hands in her lap, and the Hatter was looking at her, seeing past her cheerful, bubbly exterior for perhaps the first time; to a woman who would put up with any kind of lies or pain to avoid facing the truth. He frowned. She reminded him of someone…

"I… I just don't know what I would do without Mistah J," said Harley finally, nervously twisting her hands together. "When I first met him… I thought I'd found where I belonged."

"And when he decided he had enough of your loyalty to start treating you badly?" asked Jervis gently. "Why didn't you leave then?"

"Nobody would _let _me!" she almost sobbed, burying her face in her hands. "Everywhere I went, people said 'Oh, that's the Joker's girl, she'll do anything for him,' and when I tried to get away sometimes, nobody would give me a second chance!"

Jervis hesitated awkwardly, then moved his chair over enough that he could pat Harley on the back. Sniffling, she turned in her seat and threw her arms around his neck, burying her face in his chest. Shocked, he held himself stiff as a board for a second, then relaxed; she obviously needed comfort.

Harley's gasping sobs slowed but she stayed with her head on Jervis' chest. Admitting something for the first time in years was hard and left her feeling weak and tired, but also with a sense of release and a weight lifted.

After a minute she lifted her head. "Jervis… I think I'm gonna need some time. Could I stay here?"

He smiled gently. "Of course, my dear."

**So, love it? Hate it? Reviews make me very, very happy and no reviews make me very, very sad, so pretty please take the time to leave a few words.**


	2. April, May

**Second Chapter! Thanks soooo mush to the people who reviewed the first, it made me dance around my room!**

**Disclaimer: Storm(from X-men) AAH! DEMON!**

**Me: Calm down! **

**Storm: AAH! DEMON TALKING!**

**Me: Well, so much for that… (makes Storm vanish back to Marvel with wave of wand.) I do not own DC or Warner Brothers, but I do own my computer, Bragi. Say hello to our great audience Bragi!**

**Bragi: **HELLO. AM VERY MICH PLEASED TO MEET YOU.

**Me: Good girl! (throws Bragi a floppy disk.) If I get more than three reviews I'll update within a week!**

**Oh, nearly forgot; I made a mistake in Jervis' nightmare, since I had just been reading Alice in Wonderland. L should be C in the last thing he says before he wakes up. **

**Hope you enjoy!**

APRIL

17

"Daffodils!" Harley squealed, clasping her hands happily. "They're so pretty!"

Jervis had not even known that daffodils grew outside the bookstore before, and it was nice to share the discovery with someone who took so much pleasure in the finding. He smiled at her before returning his gaze to the brave yellow flowers. "Beautiful," he agreed, then a wind brushing past him reminded him of caution. "We should move inside. Two more days and we set a record of keeping out of Arkham without some sort of pass; three months and eighteen days."

18

"So close to making the record," Harley sighed, slumping against the wall of her cell.

"Yes… just one more day. Who knew that the bat would be so adept at tracing phone calls?"

"Sorry about that, I just wanted to let Mom and Dad know that I'd broken up with the Joker."

"No need to apologize, Harley."

25

Jervis saw the dim white figure of the Joker flick past the door of his cell at three a. m, pausing at Harley's door. "Come on, let's go!" he called merrily.

For a moment, Jervis feared that the young woman's resolve would collapse, but was soon put to ease as he heard her voice replying coldly. "In case you forgot, _Mistah J, _we broke up."

There was a moment of absolutely baffled silence, then the Joker said "So? I always forgive you, pumpkin pie."

"Forgive me for something I didn't do and wasn't my fault? That's funny for ya. Get away from my door and_ get out of my life!"_

The clown's face tightened into a snarl for a minute, then his head turned as he heard footsteps and he was gone in an instant. The moment he was half of the rogues gallery broke out into cheers.

"Way to go, Harley!"

"Finally, some self-esteem."

"That was tellin' the clown!"

MAY

4

Jervis was not sure exactly where along the line Harley, to the general public, stopped being 'the Joker's girl' and became 'the Hatter's girl'; perhaps it was because of their joint breakout following the news of Harley's breakup with the Joker and the fact she had helped him while he was trying to obtain some necessary equipment from a technical lab. However, Harley didn't seem to mind.

"Hey Jervis!"

She sat down across from him. They were back in Arkham (one of the security guards at the technical lab had been smart enough to call Batman instead of trying to face the supervillains himself) in what the Gallery called 'the mutual agreement' room, that held the Great Peace-Keeping items; namely, the television set and the chess board.

"Oh look," called the Riddler "it's a report on you, Harley."

"Me?" Harley and Jervis turned to face the television set, where Summer Gleason was talking with her usual half-smile on her face.

"-and another popular subject of discussion this week is Harleen Quinzel, better known as the infamous Harley Quinn. After the multicolored minx-"

"Nice."

"SHHH!"

"-left the Joker for the Mad Hatter, it's been a hot topic whether she's gone for good or this is just another phase-"

"She makes it sound like I'm dating Jervis and that I'm a _dame!"_

"SHHH!"

"I am not a dame!"

"Har_ley!"_

"-Time will tell whether she's changed her colors for good. Next up on Gotham insider…"

Harley and Jervis turned back towards each other with almost identical sighs. "Don't they have anything better to do then constantly discuss matters that are entirely our own affair?" muttered the Hatter.

"But it reminded me of something," said Harley, crossing her legs. "We're kinda like more partners now, aren't we? Not _partner _partners, more like… partners in crime."

He took a moment to think about it, then nodded. He could live with that definition.

"Well then, I think it's kinda odd for me still to be Harley Quinn. I mean, I've nearly always been nicknamed Harley, but the 'Quinn' was the Joker's idea, and I want to leave that behind. So I thought a new name might be in order. D'you have any suggestions?"

The Hatter was surprised for a moment at her decision, then faintly pleased; he could not exactly pinpoint the source, and dismissed it as gladness that she was forgetting that bandersnatch of a clowning thief so quickly.

"Well, my dear, I'm not sure. Lewis Carroll's books actually have a lack of female characters…"

"And the ones he did have were usually either really bad-tempered or, well…" Harley paused. "Taken," she muttered quickly, then moved on before he could figure out what she meant. "So I could use the name of one of the guy characters, as long as it's not too obviously, you know, a guy name."

"Indeed. Well, there's the March Hare…"

"But that's Professor Crane. And I don't care for the Dormouse… You're kinda like both the Mad Hatter and the White Knight. I s'pose I could be Lily… but she was a crybaby. Wait, I know!" She shot upright, a large grin appearing on her face. "The Cheshire Cat!"

"The Cheshire Cat?" An interesting choice. She smiled a lot, certainly, and was just as graceful as a cat… "Certainly, that could work."

"You better start calling me Cheshire now so I can get used to it."

24

HARLEY QUINN GOES WONDERLAND; MAD HATTER AND 'CHESHIRE CAT' ROB MUSEUM.

Humming, the girl once known as Harley Quinn ripped the headline and picture out of the newspaper and stuck it up on the refrigerator with an anti-Batman magnet. The picture was pretty good; one of the people they robbed apparently had had a camera, and they had caught Jervis with one hand on the brim of his hat, the other holding a 10/6 card and a crazy smile on his face. Cheshire stood a little behind him, grinning and holding a small pistol up by one shoulder; her revamped costume was now gold, purple and brown, with a utility belt and a hair band with brown-and-purple cat ears she had swiped from a costume store while they were procuring more hats to add to Jervis' collection.

She could hear him in the next room; they had found a building to their liking inside that looked about to collapse on the outside, and a few mind-control chips, a 'Condemned' sign and some ghost rumors later, the place was all theirs. It was nice to have an actual kitchen.

Jervis was whistling something… after a moment, she identified it.

'_Twas the voice of the lobster; I heard him declare_

"_You have baked me too long, I must sugar my hair."_

Cheshire giggled. Lewis Carroll's delightful nonsense wasn't exactly funny, and definitely not the slapstick cream-pie-in-the-face Joker style of humor, but it left her with a warm, happy feeling, a kind of security, that made her want to laugh.

Tugging absent-mindedly on a strand of her newly shoulder-length hair (it had wanted cutting) she poked through the fridge. Jervis had surrendered all power relating to food to her; the only thing he could make was tea.

"Lessee… chicken? Fish? Tacos… nah, Jervis wouldn't eat that. He'd try, to be polite, but…" She moved on. "I need to go shopping…"

The phone rang.

"Cheshire my dear, will you answer that? My hands are full."

Backflipping into the Hatter's makeshift lab, she picked up the phone from the wall. "Hello?"

"Hi, H- Cheshire. I just got out of Arkham; you mind if I stop by for dinner after I shake Batman off?"

"Hold on." Cheshire covered the mouthpiece and turned to Jervis. "Poison Ivy wants to know if she can come to dinner."

"If she promises not to poison anything or shriek at meat."

"Thanks." She went back to the phone. "Sure, Red, see you later." Hanging up, she contemplated.

Jervis had just finished making a particularly tricky connection when Cheshire perched on the table next to him. "Would you be OK with mac and cheese, Jervis? That way I can just separate some pasta out for Ivy before I add cheese."

"Of course." He did wonder slightly at how his hideouts had changed in a little more than two weeks from places that none of the other rogues would go except under duress to practical halfway houses. It was probably Cheshire. Most of everything that had happened lately was because of the bubbly, friendly girl.

**Like Harley's new name? I just didn't like calling her Harley Quinn while she wasn't the Joker's any more. I adore reviews, but please keep flames to candlelight!**


	3. The First Part of June

Here's another installment… thanks to the Mad Emperor, Harley-Cat, fantasyluver123, and Jen Rock for their reviews, it really kept me going!

Disclaimer: Fang(from Maximum Ride) …

**Me: …**

**Fang: …**

**Me: Oh, just shut up!**

**Fang: Huh?**

**Me: (Makes Fang vanish) Why do I always end up doing my own disclaimer… fate, probably. I don't own DC, or Warner Brothers, or jellybeans… yet… so, enjoy!**

**P.S: Anything you don't like, DON'T READ! I don't want people forcing themselves to read my fic, but I do want to do my own thing with it. **

**P. P. S: I couldn't resist putting another pairing in, Jonathan C./ Jeanette Cameron, an OC. **

**P. P. P. S: I'm sorry I took a while to update, but this chapter is extra long to make up for it!**

JUNE

7

"Psst! Jervis! If I stole one of the guards' walkie-talkie things, would you be able to make it into a control chip?" If Cheshire had had a tail, it would have been swishing in the delightful contemplation of her plot.

Jervis began to answer, then quieted as a guard walked down the row of cells. "Possibly, but I might need more than that," he answered after the guard was gone. "It's a pity that the orderlies found my stash of microchips in the library."

There was a snort from the Scarecrow's cell. "If you'd put it somewhere other than_ Alice in Wonderland, _Tetch, they might've not."

"Don't be mean, Professor Crane. Where else was he s'posed to put them?"

There was a minute of quiet, then the Riddler said almost reverently, "Did you hear that?"

"What?" asked Ivy shortly. She didn't sound in the mood for a guessing game.

"That's just it. An actual pause in the conversation."

"Well, yes, having the Joker in a separate wing is a nice change."

"That reminds me." Jervis leant against the glass. "Why was he moved? I haven't heard yet."

"Because of you and Ches, obviously."

Jervis raised an eyebrow at the orange-haired professor. "Obviously? Why?"

"My dear Tetch, Harleen dumped the Joker for you -"

"She just happened to be at my place when she decided to leave him, and she needed a place to stay!"

"I'm telling it as it looks. Dumped the Joker for you. Refused to return to him. Hinted that you had convinced her to leave him. Gallivants about with you in much the same manner as she did with the Joker, except that you never have fallings-out -"

"We've only been _working _together for about two months," said Jervis, putting emphasis on 'working.'

"When she was Harley Quinn, she and the Joker couldn't go two days without him abusing her unless they were in Arkham."

"Don't talk about me like I'm not here!"

The door at the end of the cell block opened and a guard shouted "Quiet in there!" There was silence until the door closed, then everybody spoke at once.

"Cheshire and I are not-"

"Jervis didn't intentionally-"

"As I was saying, even though-"

"My advice to you, Harley-"

"Now one thing that puzzles even me-"

There was a pause, then everybody finished at once.

"-romantically affiliated in the slightest."

"-like, _woo _me away from the Joker."

"-the Joker kicked Harley out, he wants her back."

"-dump them both and come live with me."

"-is why you decided to throw your lot in with the Hatter and not with me."

"Hoooold it!" Harley held up a hand before anyone could start again. "Let me get this straight. You are defending the point that we aren't dating…" Jervis nodded. "You're saying that the Joker's gonna give us trouble…" She pointed to the Scarecrow "and you two want me to come live with either of you?"

"Yes," said the Riddler and Poison Ivy in unison.

"Okie-dookie. Yes, we are not going out, thanks for the heads-up Professor, no thanks Red, and I don't fancy being the newest Query or Quiz or Question or Quandary or Quip or whatsit."

The door opened again and everybody shut up as a depressed Firefly was prodded in by a couple of orderlies, Dr. Bartholomew fluttering about like a distracted moth in their wake.

"Tut tut - and I thought you had been making progress on your pyromania. Oh well. Ah, Mr. Tetch!" he exclaimed, hurrying over to the Hatter's cell window as the orderlies pushed Firefly into his cell. "We've been hearing of some trouble between you and Mr. Napier -" he said it as if they were two five-year-old boys having an argument "-so we're having a special session of group therapy for you to work it out."

"Are you going to let them fight each other?"

"It's really the only way they're going to 'work it out."

"Well, no, I-" started Dr. Bartholomew, looking flustered, but he was interrupted again.

"Maybe a boxing match!"

"Yeah! Jervis, you know how to box, don't you?"

"Well, yes…"

"I thought so. The gentleman's way of fighting."

"Better Tetch than the clown, I guess."

"No, no, no!" Dr. Bartholomew sensed that he was losing control of the situation. "Fighting isn't the right way to resolve differences! You have to _talk _about it, and try to _understand _each other…"

There was a moment of stillness as every inmate turned towards him, their mouths twitching, then the gallery exploded in laughter. The doctor attempted to square his shoulders, failed miserably, and said. "Dr Leland will be in charge of the group session!" before hurrying out with the orderlies in tow.

His last words sank in.

"Aw, dang it."

"There goes the fight."

Two-Face flipped his coin and looked at it before speaking. "You're right. We don't want Joan to leave."

"She's the best of the bunch."

"An excellent woman."

"At least she listens." Cheshire yawned and padded over to her cot. "Feel free to use whatever language you need to tomorrow, Jervis."

8

"The reason I'm upset is because he stole my girlfriend! WHAT IS SO HARD ABOUT THIS?" yelled the Joker, banging a fist on the arm of his chair. The chains that attached him to it clinked merrily and the other inmates repressed smiles (sans Jervis, who had a hard time seeing the humor in most situations.)

Dr. Leland rubbed her forehead. She had made some progress with most of the inmates, and many of them seemed to like and trust her more than the other doctors, but the Joker treated her with the same contempt as he did everybody else.

"Maybe if Harleen explained it to you you would understand?" she asked quietly. The Joker curled his lip and sat back, crossing his arms, but didn't dissent. Cheshire sighed and began explaining. It had used to give her a strange pang to talk to the man she was once infatuated with, but now she felt little about him.

"I. Am. Not. In. Love. With. You. Any. More." She paused, then added "Come to think of it, I wasn't ever. I convinced myself I was…"

"And now you're chasing after the Wonderland geek." The Joker snorted. "Really, Harley, I would have expected you to aim a little higher… at least the Ragbag or question man… I don't know why you thought you would be better off playing Alice for-"

Jervis surged to his feet, knocking over his chair. His hands were twitching as if he wanted to fasten them around the Joker's neck, and the smile dropped off the clown's face.

"Jervis- please-" Cheshire and Dr Leland spoke almost instantaneously, but it was Cheshire Jervis looked at, his face pale with rage, before his stance relaxed slightly. The next moment, the Joker was hit in the face with something soft. Puzzled, he picked up Jervis' white glove from his lap. "What's this?"

Jervis had a strange look, almost of satisfaction, on his face, and he spoke very clearly and precisely. "I challenge you-"

"Whoa, whoa." The Joker held up his hands. "I knew you were crazy, but I didn't know you were that crazy. I don't _do _duels."

"I do," said Jervis with cool simplicity before continuing in the same precise tone. "I challenge you, Joker, to a duel - my choice of weapons - to avenge the honor of Harleen Quinzel. If you refuse to fight, then you deserve no more consideration than an cur to be whipped-"

"I'll help," offered Poison Ivy cheerfully.

"Now, Jervis," said Dr Leland. She knew better than to just say straight out that they couldn't fight. "You can't fight here, it's not allowed. In fact, dueling is illegal everywhere in the country."

"One of the perks of being criminally insane is that what's legal or not matters very little to us." The Riddler grinned broadly, tipping his head to the side. "Is there an opening for second?"

"I should be glad to accept your assistance. And yes, I do know it will not be permitted here," he added, turning to Dr Leland "but this man has constantly and infallibly mocked all that I hold sacred, sneered at what I worship, attacked what I strive to protect. This can no longer continue. The next moment I can, where ever it may be, whatever circumstances, I shall fight him."

"Ohhh." Cheshire breathed. She was staring at him with starry eyes. "That was _beautiful."_

Crane muttered something under his breath about Catholics and G.K Chesterton that nobody really caught, as the time for the session had run out.

"Well, did things get any better?" Dr Bartholomew asked with great optimism as Dr Leland came wearily to his office to give her report.

She resisted the urge to burst out laughing derisively and spoke quietly. "The upshot of putting them in the same room together was the Hatter challenging the Joker to a duel."

"A what?"

"A duel. With all the trimmings. Glove thrown in face, reasons given, "to avenge the honor of…" I don't think this one is going to blow over."

"Oh dear." Dr Bartholomew scratched his head with his pen. "How _will _this work out?"

12

"They've escaped." Dr Ashton's secretary kept pace with him through the hallways as she rattled off her report. "The Mad Hatter, the Cheshire Cat, the Scarecrow, the Riddler, Poison Ivy-"

"Yes, I get the idea!"

"Two-Face, the Penguin, Killer Croc, the Penny Plunderer-"

"All right."

"Ventriloquist, Baby-Doll, the Mad Bomber, the Cheshire Cat-"

"You already said her. Wait, the Joker didn't escape?"

"Well, he didn't escape per se. But he's not here anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we have it on surveillance tapes, if you come this way…" She dragged him off to the side into the projector room and switched on the projector.

With open-mouthed, silent amazement, Dr Ashton watched the muted tape; the door to the Joker's cell sprang open and the Mad Hatter beckoned him to come out. The Joker's lips moved, forming something very rude. The Mad Hatter's mouth tightened and his wrist flicked; the Joker's face went slack as a 10/6 card appeared behind his ear.

"This cannot be good."

Thirty miles away, the Joker was thinking the same thing as the microchip was removed and he found himself confronted by the grinning faces of his former fellows.

14

"Ah." The Joker, still in a straightjacket and handcuffs, looked around the small plateau. "High ground… fresh air… nice view of the sea… can't think of a better place for hand-to-hand combat."

There was a businesslike _sshhhkkkt, sshhhkkkt, _sound coming from the other side of the plateau, where Jervis was sharpening one of the seventeenth-century swords that Two-Face had found at a pawnbroker's (He could be trusted to find two of exactly equal length.) The Riddler was standing behind him admiring the view and covertly shooting glances at the other second (Killer Croc) who was throwing rocks over the edge with an expression of deep fulfillment. All the other rogues had found places to sit that were hopefully out of the range of sword-thrusts, except for Cheshire.

"Jervis?" The Hatter looked up from examining the blade, brushing his blonde bangs out of his eyes. Cheshire stood a few feet away, looking, for once in her life, a bit shy. "I-I wanted to say thank you." Her blue eyes were bent downwards, and her voice was soft. "I've never had anyone - protect me like that… rush to my rescue… it's… nice. So, well, um, thank you."

He found himself flushing a deep red as he pushed the sword into the rocky soil to stand it upright. "Pish tosh my dear, it's nothing."

She put a slim hand on his shoulder and turned him towards her. "No, it isn't nothing. It's…" why was she having a hard time connecting her thoughts…? "A lot. It means a lot."

_Why is it so hard to breathe…? _"Well then… you're welcome." They remained in tableau for a minute, her hand on his chest, their eyes on each other, before she lifted onto tiptoe and kissed him. The light contact of her lips sent quaking shivers through his body, of shock or pleasure he could not tell. In a moment it was over, Cheshire dropping her eyes and turning back to where the Scarecrow was taking bets for the fight. Almost unconsciously, he raised a hand to his lips where hers had been as he watched her go, then shook his head to clear it and looked to where Two-Face and Killer Croc were explaining things to the Joker.

"So we basically try to hit each other with the swords until one of us falls down either dead or beaten up and the other person wins?"

"Basically."

"You're sure Tetch wouldn't rather play Monopoly?" The Joker had the sword shoved into his hand for an answer. "Guess not. This ain't fair, I don't know how to swordfight!"

"Neither does Tetch. You'll both be winging it, it just depends which of you wings it better."

"Ho boy." The clown's white face turned slightly green as he looked to where Jervis was moving his sword around experimentally. "This is not gonna be pretty."

"Its balance is very different from an axe." Jervis commented to the Riddler, holding the blade out at arm's length.

"For heaven's sake, _don't _try to handle it like one," the Penguin begged from the sidelines. "It would be just too painful to watch."

Two-Face walked out in the middle of the natural platform and held up his hands for silence.

"We're here because the Mad Hatter challenged the Joker on the behalf of the Cheshire Cat, who is with us today. Everybody give Cheshire a hand!"

"He sounds like a game show host," the Riddler muttered, clapping along nonetheless.

"Now, on my count of ten by twos, I want you to start fighting. There will be no intermission. Thank you all for coming. Now…" He stepped out of the middle and checked his watch. "Two! Four! Six!"

Jervis had already entrusted his hat, coat and waistcoat to Cheshire; he blew the dust off his sword and figured out a way to hold it so the point was towards the Joker and not wavering off to the side or up. The Joker picked up his sword gingerly, eyed it doubtfully, and tried to walk off the field; Killer Croc blocked his way.

"Eight! And ten!"

Neither one of them moved for a minute, then Jervis took a tentative step forward and the Joker jumped backward. Killer Croc shoved him back into the middle and he held up his sword with a fatalistic expression.

The swords tapped with a clear, ringing sound like a bell, then withdrew; neither of the two men seemed ready to commit to the fight yet. They were moving around each other rather like two wolves sizing each other up, Jervis holding his weapon loosely in one hand and the Joker clutching his in both. His customary grin had begun to return; he had decided on a surprise attack. A few hacking blows to get through the Hatter's defenses - how good could they be, he didn't know how to make them with a sword- then he decided he would kill him. The Victorian-mannered man was really starting to get on his nerves.

After a minute, he lunged, putting all his weight behind the blade. Jervis saw him coming just in time and threw himself to the side; Cheshire bit her lip in worry, but he leapt back to his feet swiftly and brought up his sword to fend off the Joker's double-handed blow. The other blade glanced off his and clipped his shoulder.

Cheshire put a hand over her mouth, leaning forward on her rock. The Joker began to laugh, then had his breath knocked out of him as Jervis slammed into him with his uninjured shoulder, sending him backwards and knocking the sword out of his hand.

* * * * *

Batman landed on a rock outcrop and lifted his binoculars to his eyes. The dark smudge on top of the plateau about a mile away was the rogues, but how had they gotten to France and _what the heck were they doing?_

* * * * *

The Joker wiped a trickle of blood from his mouth and laughed softly. "You can't do it."

The shining metal an inch away from his chest quivered, but Jervis did not make the move forward that would have ended the self-styled comedian's career in an eyeblink.

"You don't have the-"

"I'm not killing you," said Jervis quietly, his eyes fixed on something beyond the clown "because there's a batarang trained on me right now."

All heads whipped in the direction he was looking.

"Well, well. The Bat. Congratulations are in order, I suppose, for tracking us down overseas." The Penguin cocked his umbrella. "Now, if you don't _mind_, two of us are having a gentlemen's discussion."

The caped crusader remained perched on the overhang, staring at the group. "What in the name of heaven is going on?"

"The docs didn't tell you? They're having a duel 'cause of me," said Cheshire, cocking her head to the side. "Do you wanna bet? Jervis is kinda favored, but feel free to put your money either way."

"Stop this ridiculous fight now." The Dark Knight's eyes flashed, but the rogues were mostly unimpressed.

"Oh, I'm _so _scared," chirped Baby-Doll. "Face it Batsy, there's one of you and… thirteen of us, so why don't _you _'give it up' for once?"

The Joker had begun to try and sidle out from under the point of the Hatter's sword, but found it pricking his neck. He resisted the urge to swallow and stayed put. Batman smiled oddly. "I believe you slightly miscounted, Miss Dahl."

Several of the supervillains swung around, but they were a little too late to stop the net that dropped over half of them, including the two combatants.

"Three of us." Robin thudded down, pushing a spike into the edge of the net and into the ground to hold it down. Batgirl followed a second after, holding something that resembled a bazooka. "I hope we're not too much of a crowd?"

"What is _that?" _asked the Mad Bomber nervously, pointing at the bazooka-thing.

"This? Oh, this is just in case any of you were feeling like not coming quietly." Batgirl pulled down a small lever in the side and the gun cocked ominously. "Are you indisposed?"

The supervillains spent a second weighing the odds in a battle between the Mad Bomber, Baby-Doll, Two-Face, Scarface, the Scarecrow and the Penny Plunderer on one side and Batman, Robin and Batgirl with a bazooka-thing on the other, then surrendered.

"Now that you're handcuffed, I can let you in on a very big secret," said Batgirl cheerfully to a sulky Cheshire a minute later. "It wasn't even loaded!"

Cheshire snarled at her. Robin was eyeing the Mad Hatter, who still had his sword, rather warily.

"Now, you don't want to do anything rash-" he began nervously, putting his hand to a batarang. The Hatter had an odd glint in his eye.

"Oh, no, I've thought it out rather carefully," the hatted man answered coolly. Robin hadn't released him from the net, but he had cut through (the Joker had dropped his sword and had almost seemed glad to be captured) and was holding his sword at the ready.

Robin swallowed. "Er, Batman? Bit of trouble over here."

Batman looked up impatiently from where he was tying up Baby-Doll (who was shrieking "No fairs! No fairs!" and trying to bite him). "Just keep him busy for a minute, Robin, I'll be there in no time."

"'Keep him busy'… easy for you to say," muttered Robin, pulling out the batarang. "Er, do you know how to use that thing?"

"No," answered the Hatter cheerfully. "Let's call this a crash course, shall we?"

Robin threw himself to the side to avoid the blade, loosing the batarang at the same time. Rolling and coming up in a crouch, he saw that his opponent had dodged with remarkable speed and was gone.

Robin blinked. _Huh? I wouldn't say he was the type to cut and run…_

Batgirl yelped to his right and there was the _bong _of something slim, sharp and metal rebounding off something large, hollow and metal.

_Guess I was right. _Apparently the Hatter would not run a lady through from behind, but he had no compunctions about trying to knock her out with the hilt of his sword. Batgirl had heard him just in time to spin around and block the strike with the bazooka. Batman was distracted with hanging onto Cheshire, who had picked the locks of her first set of handcuffs with a hairpin and had produced a couple of control cards from a hidden pocket; he was making feinting motions with another pair of batcuffs and she was holding him off while the restrained supervillains watched with interest. Batman was not encouraged by the whispers of "Ten to one on Cheshire" and "I'm putting my money on five minutes, maximum."

_Ten minutes later…_

"You lose, they've just gotten the upper hand now," the Penny Plunderer told the Penguin, who had made a seven-minute bet and couldn't see the combatants.

The Mad Hatter and the Cheshire Cat stood at the edge of the path leading down from the plateau, the Mad Hatter pressing a handkerchief over the deep cut in his shoulder with one hand but his sword steady in the other, and Cheshire leaning casually on the shoulder of a mind-controlled Robin. Batman and Batgirl stood a few yards away, conferring.

"When you're ready, just agree to give us a four-hour start and we'll release the boy," called the Mad Hatter. Batman shot him a murderous glance and returned to arguing with Batgirl under his breath.

Cheshire wiped her brow and blew out a satisfied breath. "Not even Batsy can stand in our way when we work together," she said quietly. She didn't look away from their opponents, but she knew Jervis was turning his head slightly towards her.

"We are a formidable team," he replied. "It was good thinking to go for the boy, Cheshire."

A light blush spread across the girl's cheeks. "You're such a charmer, Jervis."

"If you're done patting each other on the back we're willing to give you a three-hour head start," called Batman sharply. "Now release the boy!"

"Ooh, _somebody's _crabby about losing," cooed Cheshire. "Do you give your word that you won't slap a tracker on one of us or follow us in any way during the three hours?"

"You. Have. My. Word." Batman gritted out through clenched teeth.

"Hey, what about us?" called the Penny Plunderer.

"Terribly sorry to leave you in the lurch, but it can't be helped," said Jervis as Cheshire removed the card from behind Robin's ear with a theatrical flourish and pushed him towards the two other crimefighters. "We'll send postcards."

They were gone in a minute, and Batman set his watch. "In exactly three hours, we're after them," he told Batgirl and Robin. "That'll give us time to ferry all the other criminals back to Arkham."

"Where do you think they're going?" Robin asked as Batman dialed on his belt to bring the batplane.

"Some other foreign country, but not England," Batman responded. "The Hatter said that they'd 'send postcards' and I don't think that he would go somewhere as obvious as England."

There was a minute of silence, then Batgirl spoke up. "Um, Batman?"

"Hmm?"

"Shouldn't the plane be here by now, unless… unless somebody shut off the receiving device at the other… end…" Her eyes popped open wider as they saw the batplane rise up over the mountains and fly unsteadily in the opposite direction. "Oh no."

* * * * *

"WE ARE THE JABBERWOCKS FROM HECK!" yelled Cheshire at the top of her lungs, intoxicated from flooring the gas pedal. "THIS BABY CAN _MOTOR!"_

Jervis, in the seat next to her, checked the rearview mirror. "It appears Batman did not anticipate this." The vigilantes were staring after them open-mouthed.

"I should hope so!" chirped Cheshire. "It is so annoying when just as you've finished a beautiful plot Batsy shows up and ruins the whole thing and goes on and on about how he knew we were going to do it because of the way our twisted minds worked and so on ad nauseum. Where to, Jervis?"

"I think Batman might be confused a bit longer if we go to England," the Hatter answered, turning towards the smiling, windblown girl. "I would love to show you London. Did you know I grew up in England?"

"No, I thought you just did the accent to fit in with your costume. You have any folks left?"

"Not really, but perhaps Jeanette will still be in London. The orphanage where she was raised was only a little way away from our house, and she dropped by the numerous times she ran away. She's almost like a little sister; we'll have to look her up while we're in England."

"What's she like?"

"Last time I saw her she was fifteen. Dark hair, slender, reasonably tall, hazel eyes, sharp chin… it's been nine years, though. She'll be twenty-four now."

* * * * *

Jeanette Cameron brushed some dust off a bolt of dark blue cloth, humming 'The Lobster Quadrille' set to a rock tune, to herself.

"…_so turn not pale, beloved snail, but come and join the dance!_

_Will you, won't you,_

_Will you won't you_

_Will you join the dance_

_Will you, won't you_

_Will you won't you_

_Won't you join the dance?"_

A cat rubbed against her leg, and she looked down. "Aha! Dinah." She scooped up the purring tabby and rubbed her cheek against her. "By this train of portents, I hereby predict that a certain old Wonderland-obsessed acquaintance will be dropping by soon. Best close shop for the day."

_OUT OF THIS WORLD! _was a popular costume, clothing, and special-equipment shop in the front, a witch's house in the back where questions were asked and answered and stories were told. (Although it was known to few, OUT OF THIS WORLD! lived up to its name. More than half of the customers hailed from other dimensions, ranging from Marvel to Oz, and it was not unusual for the back-door customers looking for solutions to their problems to range from vampires to exiled princes. Jeanette had thoughtfully built near a 'door hub' where there were openings to a number of worlds, having been gifted with a smooth enough tongue and strong enough nerves to cope with more than one.)

She was flipping her sign from 'OPEN' to 'CLOSED' when a sharp rap came on the back door and she flew to answer it. Nobody with a non-important question could get past her signs.

* * * * *

The Scarecrow rapped again, then put his hands in his pockets. He had gotten away from the Batman with comparative ease, (coping with eleven of the Arkham escapees at once had been too much for the Dark Knight, even with Robin and Batgirl to lend a hand), tracked Tetch, found his dropped memorandum book with 'Look up Jeanette C.' in it, and located the only Jeanette C. in the whole of London. His blue eyes swept over the numerous signs stuck on, around and above the door as he waited for the door to be opened.

'NONE OF THIS NONSENSE, PLEASE.'

'THINK BEFORE YOU ASK.'

'WHY ARE YOU HERE, WHAT DO YOU WANT, AND WHY DO I CARE?'

'DO NOT MEDDLE IN THE AFFAIRS OF DRAGONS, FOR YOU ARE CRUNCHY AND GOOD WITH KETCHUP.'

There was also a double-sided one in the middle of the door. The side facing up read 'The Witch is in' but the reverse read 'I have gone looking for myself. If I return before I come back, keep me here!'

In short, she sounded like the kind of person Tetch would be friends with.

The door banged open and a young woman - who had apparently tripped over a cat - fell on him. He caught her reflexively, taking in her pale skin, sharp, determined chin, dark hair in a high ponytail and her slightly strange clothes; a tight top of delicate silver lace over an low-on-the-shoulder black blouse and black jeans. Her arms, hands and feet were bare except for a silver anklet, and a matching necklace- fine silver chain with tiny pearls - looped gracefully around her neck.

"Oops!" she said, laughing and untangling her arms from around his neck. "Sorry! Dinah tripped me." She tossed her head back, getting the hair out of her eyes, and he smelled her perfume - dark and sweet, like licorice and black roses. "What brings you here, tall, auburn and handsome?"

He was a bit caught off guard, but managed to answer. "I'm looking for Tetch. Jervis Tetch. Have you seen him lately?"

She leant against the doorframe. "The Hatter? Not for nine years, but he'll be here soon. Would you like to come in and wait?"

Jonathan eyed her. She was practically _glowing _with innocence and good intentions, and he didn't trust that in the slightest. "How do you know he'll be here?"

"Mars is bright tonight," she answered in a deep, echoing voice. "_Unusually _bright."

He raised an eyebrow and she gave a huff of frustration. "You should read more. Portents. I know he'll be here because a copy of _Through the Looking-Glass _fell off the bookcase this morning, a new bolt of cloth in the blue of his coat arrived, I've had the _Lobster Quadrille _as done by… the Four Postmen, I think, running through my head all day, and Dinah's been following me around. Now are you going to come in?"

The Scarecrow fingered the canister of fear gas in his pocket. Deciding that if she got any weirder he could gas her, he nodded and followed her into the long, narrow hallway. In a continuation of her preferences outside, signs dotted the walls.

'THE WICKED WITCH WAS FRAMED.'

'SOME DAYS IT JUST DOESN'T PAY TO GNAW THROUGH THE RESTRAINTS.'

"Do I know _that _feeling," muttered Jonathan, and continued reading as Jeanette reached the end of the hallway before him.

'DON'T BE AFRAID TO TRY NEW THINGS. AFTER ALL, AMATUERS BUILT THE ARK. PROFESSIONALS BUILT THE TITANIC.'

'I BARELY SURVIVED YESTERDAY AND ALREADY IT'S TODAY.'

"Hurry up!" called Jeanette, pattering past the end of the passage. "Tea, milk, cider, water, pumpkin juice or treacle?"

"Er… cider?"

"Good!" She shot past again, singing to herself. As he came from the tunnel into something that looked like a sitting room-cum-kitchen, his eyes settled on the welcome mat; it was dark blue, and there was a poem written on it in golden letters.

_If you are a dreamer, come in._

_If you are a dreamer, a wisher, a liar_

_A hoper, a prayer, a magic-bean buyer_

_If you're a pretender, come sit by my fire_

_For we have some golden-flax tales to spin_

_Come in! Come in! _

"Princess, princess, why do you cry…?" Jeanette sang softly, pouring cider from a large earthenware jug into a black mug with _My other car is a broom _written on it. "In a forest painted by the setting sun… I made a promise to a demon boy…"

Jonathan began to relax in spite of himself; the warm golden lighting, bright but not glaring colors, and the general welcoming atmosphere of the room were all very soothing, as was the girl's voice, even though her tone was sad and the lyrics of the song strange.

"Princess, Princess, why are you scared…?" Jeanette indicated a polished, richly carved hardwood chair for him to sit in at a small yellow table, then set the mug in front of him as he complied. "In the mountains far away I hear the demon boy cry…"If women truly are as fickle as the phases of the moon…"

"How soon do you think Tetch will be here?" Jonathan inquired, sniffing the cider cautiously. It didn't smell bad. In fact, it smelled good. Better than good. It had a rich, warm apple scent with traces of nutmeg, orange and cinnamon. His mouth betrayed him completely and began to water.

"A few hours, perhaps. No more than a day. You know, that cider was meant for sustenance, not decoration. Now excuse me, I want to get something for lunch."

She opened a door and vanished down some steps; probably leading to a cellar, Jonathan decided. He stared at the cider for another minute, then gave up the battle; deciding that if it was going to kill him it was a good way to go, he took a sip.

When Jeanette came back up, he had finished the mug and was pouring himself another. "Do you mind?" he asked rather belatedly.

"Better to beg forgiveness than to ask permission," said Jeanette, indicating a sign that was inscribed with the exact words as she set a shallow, covered glass dish on the tile counter in the kitchen half of the room. "Do you like polenta?"

"Never heard of it."

"I shouldn't be surprised." Jeanette eyed his thin frame with a kind of pitying horror. "You don't look like you've had a bite of decent food in your whole life. Can you stay for lunch?"

There was something oddly peaceful about the atmosphere, warm and comforting like he'd never felt before. Much of it seemed to radiate from the barefoot young woman with her dark hair glowing in the soft light from the shaded lamps, and even though a persistent, nagging voice in the back of his head reminded him of what happened every time he put trust in someone and stayed in one place for more than a little while, he slowly nodded. "I'll stay."

* * * * *

Cheshire leant with her ear against the 'I have gone looking for myself' sign. "She's in. I can hear her talking to somebody, and they're both laughing. The guy's laugh sounds a bit odd, like he's forgotten how to laugh."

"You have sharp ears, my dear." Jervis placed a gloved hand on her shoulder, leaning forward to listen as well. "I can scarcely make them out, but the other voice seems familiar… almost like…"

They looked at each other.

"No, it can't be Jonathan."

"Professor Crane doesn't _laugh! _Maybe a dark chuckle now and then, but not…"

"Well, let's find out." Jervis rapped on the door.

* * * * *

Two hours after Jonathan had decided to stay both he and Jeanette were sitting at the kitchen table, talking over near-empty plates of polenta and cups of cider.

"…so then the police shine flashlights into the tree Killer Croc is hiding in, and he says "MOOOO!"

Jeanette laughed, a warm, real, bell-like laugh, and Jonathan found himself laughing with her, uncertainly; he had not laughed normally since… he could not remember if he ever had.

There was a knock on the back door.

"That must be them!" The dark-haired girl sprang to her feet, walking with light, quick steps into the hall and out of sight, her footsteps muffled by the thick carpet. A moment later he heard the door open and his hostess say "Hi, Jervis!" as if it was normal for him to drop by after nine years' absence.

"Miss Cameron, hello." He could just envision Jervis bowing with a _swoosh _of his hat, bestowing a polite kiss on Jeanette's hand. _And Cheshire looking jealous, _he added with a slight grin. _I wonder if Tetch will ever realize that she's falling for him? Even if he did, he'd probably feel uncomfortable about being "Alice, Alice," for three years, then figuring out that he and Cheshire are perfect for each other._

Jeanette entered with Cheshire and the Hatter in tow. Both of them looked faintly shocked to see Jonathan.

"You actually got him to eat something substantial?" asked Cheshire in a tone of awe, ignoring him and turning to the other girl. "Wow. Keep it up and he might gain a pound."

"If I was cooking for him regularly he might even look healthy," she answered as the Hatter greeted Jonathan and, with the instinct of a hummingbird going for a flower, headed for the tea cupboard. "But, enough about us-" Jonathan was not sure whether to be offended or pleased that she lumped her and him into an _us - _"How are you two doing, and where are you planning to go from here?"

"If you would fill them in, my dear, I'm fixing us some tea," Jervis called.

Cheshire sprawled comfortably in a purple velvet armchair and a wicked grin spread across her face. "Where to begin…?"

* * * * *

Cheshire took another sip from the warm cup of Earl Grey Jervis had brought her. She had moved to a red sofa so they could sit side by side, and Professor Crane and Jeanette were in chairs opposite to them. Already she liked the warm, welcoming, but a little wacky Jeanette. "We parked Bats' plane thing in Kensington Gardens and covered it with greenery." She yawned. It had been a tiring day. "Not a very good hiding place, but not many better places in London…" She trailed off, draining her cup and setting it on a table to her left.

"We were wondering if we might be able to stay with you a few days," Jervis picked up the thread "if it wouldn't be to inconvenient. We're both a bit recognizable, somebody might recognize us even here…"

He cut off. Cheshire was leaning against him, asleep.

"She's had a tiring day," remarked Jonathan, in the tones of someone discussing a four-year-old.

The Hatter remained still for a second in dilemma, then gently turned towards the girl, trying to get into a position where he could shift her to another part of the couch. Still asleep, Cheshire made a small complaining noise and grabbed the lapels of his coat, snuggling into his chest. He froze, turning slightly red.

"I'm going to go make sure the guest rooms are ready," said Jeanette, removing herself from the scene.

After a minute of silence except for the ticking of a clock, Jonathan sighed impatiently. "For heaven's sake, Tetch, relax. She's not radioactive."

Jervis slowly relaxed, putting one arm on the arm of the chair and, after a moment's thought, letting the other rest across Cheshire's shoulders. His face softened as he looked down at the sleeping girl, who looked absolutely happy.

"You know," said Jonathan in a far-too-casual voice, "I've been reading _Alice in Wonderland _lately. Thinking about things a bit." His pose was unusually nonchalant, and he was looking away from the other man. "Interesting that… even though Alice spends, what, a day in Wonderland, another in the looking-glass world - or maybe they are one and the same - but anyway, two days, perhaps a little more. Yet the books follow her as if she is the most important character, while even her most chance encounters, such as the Puppy and the Pigeon, show more character than she does. Some of the Wonderland creatures may have been temporarily dazzled by her, as she was so strange and new, but, after she left, life must have gone on… after she left, the Mad Hatter, the Cheshire Cat, the March Hare, all of them stayed, and must have eventually forgot… because she didn't really belong. _She _was the dream, the fleeting fantasy. _They _were the reality."

The Hatter was silent, but his thoughts were in turmoil. Was Jonathan being allegorical? Did he mean the Alice of this world, or of Wonderland? Strange, he had begun to think of her as simply 'Alice' or 'that Alice' instead of 'his Alice.' He had thought he had loved her… couldn't live without her. How could such a strong feeling just… go?

Cheshire sighed in her sleep, cuddling up to him with a peaceful smile. He looked down at her; it was like he was seeing her for the first time. Her soft yet determined chin, her smooth skin with the golden light glancing off it, giving it an angelic glow; the soft smile that he knew could turn devilish or mischievous in a second if she were awake, her blonde hair, cut to a little past her chin. He remembered the day she had come down with it cut, a laugh on her lips at his astonishment… _"My dear, when I said your hair wanted cutting I didn't mean it literally!" _Her cheerful reply… _"It's okay Jervis, I wanted to do it." _

His mind flickered through memories. Only three and a half months together and he had so many of her… Cheshire laughing at his tentative jokes, Cheshire never knowing where anything was but assisting in the search whole-heartedly, Cheshire trying to figure out the exact steps of the Lobster Quadrille, reminding him to eat, asking about his work - the light touch of her lips… and it all came down to _Cheshire, _warm and real in his arms, content to walk in Wonderland and pass the time with him.

"Perhaps…" His hand moved slowly to gently stroke Cheshire's hair. "Perhaps you are right, Jonathan."

And now he had another problem; to try and continue as if nothing had happened when he had just fallen in love… not again, but truly for the first time.

**So, like it? Hate it? I don't own any of the sayings, or what Jeanette was singing; that comes from Crescent Moon. I want opinions on an issue in my reviews; do you think that I ought to do some of the chapters as songfics? I'd love to, but I'll bow to the majority vote.**

**Reviews boost my ego. Without reviews, my ego will shrivel up and die. Without an ego, I won't be able to write. SO REVIEW!**


	4. First KissJune's End

**IIIII'MMM BAACK! With another installment of Tea And Sympathy!**

**Disclaimer: Gambit(from X-men) Hey there, chere.**

**Me: Put that sexy Cajun smirk away and act professional.**

**Gambit: Anything for you, Shelia. (slouches attractively over to microphone) This li'l chere don't own nothin' but Gambit's heart; she stole it away the moment Gambit saw-**

**Me: Knock it off. I prefer the smart nerdy type.**

**Do you recognize it? Then I don't own it.**

**I hope people don't mind me entwining the sections with Jeanette with appearances of characters from other places, she is just so much of a witch and an interworld diplomat that it's impossible to write her without putting some of that in. **

**P.S: Whoever can name every cameo of different worlds and characters from gets three cheers, just review or e-mail me!**

**P. P. S: Hugs and kisses to my reviewers, keep it up, I almost have double digits! **

23

"And what's this?"

"Rosemary. For remembrance and banishing evil spirits."

Jeanette and Cheshire's voices floated in through the open window as Jervis sat in his - well, his at present - bedroom, fiddling with a circuitry card that had short-circuited. They had imposed on Miss Cameron for a week and she didn't seem to mind a bit, answering Cheshire's questions, supplying parts for Jervis - he wasn't sure where she got them from, but many of the people that came to her store were decidedly odd. He had seen people in long, multicolored robes that had been cheering when they came in about the death of someone called 'You-Know-Who' (they had been looking for party hats) a very pretty girl with brown braids and a gingham dress that had been looking for a coat for her dog, a young woman who was inquiring after a pattern for a shirt of cambric without needlework or seams. Miss Cameron had supplied her with one and she had seemed very happy, humming something about a sickle of leather as she went out. By far the strangest person to come in was a man who had knocked on the back door in the middle of the night; Jervis had glimpsed him, as he had been up to work on his technology, and the brief sight had left him with an odd feeling. He had been tall, with a sharply planed face and an aquiline nose and no mustache or beard; he was wearing a blue coat unfastened, ripped, and sweeping to his ankles and a blue top hat with odd creases and something that looked unpleasantly like a small red eye in the side. Jeanette had welcomed him, looking slightly sad, and they had talked far into the night. The following morning, when he had asked who it was, Jeanette had looked thoughtful, then shook her head.

"A great man," she had said, "that's all I can say. I have scarcely met one of more courage, loyalty and determination."

The voices from outside drifted into his reverie.

"And this one's thyme?"

"Yes. Golden thyme. Very good, Cheshire."

There was a rap on the door and Jonathan entered without waiting for a reply. Nodding a greeting to Jervis as he saw he was working, he strolled over to the window and leant against the frame, looking down at the girls down in the garden. Jeanette was taking advantage of the good weather to teach Cheshire herb lore - or at least how to tell one plant from another.

A small smile curved Jervis' mouth as he watched the other man from underneath the brim of his hat. Jonathan was staring at Jeanette, he knew; the professor had been trying to conceal it, but Jervis could sense unspoken attraction from a mile away.

"She has very beautiful blue eyes," commented Jervis slyly, fanning himself with his hat.

"Hazel," corrected Jonathan without thinking, "yes-" he cut off and swung around to stare at the Hatter, who was looking the picture of innocence, with narrowed eyes. "You just said that as some sort of test, didn't you?"

The blonde Englishman shrugged gaily, replacing his hat and blowing the hair out of his eyes. "My dear fellow, whatever could you mean?" Giving up that tack at Jonathan's not-buying-it expression, he tried another. "Very well. I guessed that you were attracted to Miss Cameron-"

"Attraction - Tetch, she is maybe ten or fifteen years my junior. Oh, wait -" he seemed to have spotted the gaping hole in his logic - "well, Cheshire is much younger than you, but that's just one case!"

"If you say so, Jonathan…" murmured Jervis, tipping his hat down over his eyes and managing to sound disbelieving and indulging at the same time.

The Scarecrow scowled at him, then slammed out of the room, leaving the madman giggling to himself. He was still laughing when Cheshire joined him five minutes later.

"Professor Crane?" she asked, and he nodded, chuckling. "Jeanette lassoed him into helping her prune the roses. Oh, Jonathan and Jeanette, sittin' in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"

"Now really, my dear," he got himself partially under control as he pushed the brim of his hat up with one gloved finger and attempted to look at her reprovingly. "It hasn't gone that far yet."

"You hypocrite." Grinning, she sat on the edge of the bed he was on, bouncing a little, and pulled the hat back down over his eyes until it rested on his nose. "You see it as well as I do!"

He smiled, unable to see her but feeling the sharp slope in the mattress where her body pressed it down and one of her hands resting lightly on his chest. "It seems I cannot deceive you, my dearest." As soon is it was out he realized his slip, but she did not seem to notice the difference in the way he addressed her. Or maybe she did; the hat was still down over his eyes, and he couldn't see her face, but her tone sounded normal as she replied.

"Professor Crane does seem happier than I've ever seen him before - not the I've-just-gassed-somebody type, _really _happy. And he doesn't look quite as skeletal anymore. I mean, he's still thin, but before he was like a stick figure."

"I agree. Now…" He shifted slightly. "Would you let go of my hat? I would like to see."

"Oops!" She released the brim, blushing. "Sorry."

"It's all right, my sweet." There it was again - he must stop having these slips of tongue! So far Cheshire did not seem to have noticed, but he must not make any advance yet. It was far too soon. But it was hard not to call her the sweet names he so wanted to…

Cheshire felt her pulse flutter at the term of endearment. The one earlier could have been a mistake, but twice…? She was still trying to fully decipher her feelings for the Hatter; early on she had told herself firmly that she was _not _going to fall in love with a criminal ever again - "something sensible instead, like a plumber or a banker" - had been her exact words to the plant she was watering, and yet… and yet…

Seeing Jervis challenge the Joker for _her._ His laughter and conversation. A week ago, when she had fallen asleep on the sofa and had woken up in his arms - he had been carrying her to her bed - and she had faked sleep for a few more minutes in his gentle hold, one gloved hand under her knees and his other arm cradling her head to his chest.

"Hold still," she said to Jervis. She had to settle this once and for all.

"What?" he asked, obediently holding still.

"I'm going to make an experiment." Gripping the lapels of his coat gently, she leant in and kissed him deeply. His entire body stiffened with shock, then he pulled away, pushing himself up sharply. Caught off-balance, she fell onto him, still gripping his coat to keep herself from slipping completely.

"Cheshire!" The Hatter was turning bright red. The - the thing just a second ago - and now she was practically on top of him, looking at him with an expression of confusion and a bit of hurt.

She released him, pushing herself to a sitting position and tugging on a lock of her hair nervously. "I - I'm sorry." Obviously she had been wrong. He didn't want her; his shocked reaction proved that easily. She just hoped that she hadn't ruined their relationship completely. "That was - a mistake."

He was gasping with the reaction still, but wasn't so utterly surprised that he didn't see that she thought he had rejected her; he had just been caught off-guard by her sudden approach.

"No." His gloved hand gripped her chin lightly, turned her face to him. "No, it wasn't."

Cheshire was cut off mid-mental-reprimand by the Hatter's lips touching hers. His kiss was gentle, tentative, fearful and wonderful at once. Twisting and throwing her arms around his neck, she returned it ardently, pushing them both back onto the covers of the bed.

After a minute they both had to breathe, and Cheshire pushed herself up a little, her blue eyes glowing. She was just beginning to speak when Jonathan walked into the room without knocking.

"Has either of you seen the…" He saw the tableau before him and trailed off. "Unless I'm interrupting something?"

Cheshire shot off the bed and into the chair like a scalded cat and sat with her hands folded in her lap, looking like the picture of ladylike decorum and innocence except for her twinkling eyes and flushed cheeks. The Mad Hatter sat up hastily, straightening his cravat and bow tie. "Er, no, Jonathan. What are you looking for?"

Flashing him a that's-so-obviously-a-lie-I'm-not-even-going-to-mention-it look, the Scarecrow resumed. "Jeanette can't locate the extra pair of clippers. She thought Cheshire might have seen them."

The girl frowned. "They might be in the lavender patch."

"The lavender patch. I suppose that that would make sense to you…" He left the room, and there was a long, awkward silence. Let's take a peek into the minds of the two keeping it, shall we?

"_Oh no, what should I say, nothing like this has ever happened before, she probably regrets it by now, no girl would ever want me, especially one so beautiful and sweet as Cheshire…"_

"_He looks upset, was I going too fast, I thought we felt the same way about each other but perhaps I was wrong, god I hope he cares for me as well…"_

Finally Jervis rose from the bed, his heart going faster than a hummingbird. "Miss Quinzel," he said quietly and clearly, but with a certain unsteadiness in his voice, "I would understand if you would wish to - to discontinue our relationship. Most probably your actions of a minute ago are regretted now, and-"

He was cut off as the girl threw her arms around him, burying her head in his coat. Her eyes were squeezed shut, but tears still leaked out. "No!" she gasped. "No! I don't want to go anywhere. Don't make me!"

Shocked for perhaps the third or fourth time in ten minutes, the Hatter tried to speak, but the young woman was already filling the gap with her words.

"And don't call me that, Jervis." She raised a tear-stained face to him. "It's Cheshire."

He wasn't sure what to do, so simply embraced her in return, inhaling her scent of mint and vanilla, one hand moving in comforting circles on her back. After several minutes, he could only think of one thing to say.

"I'm glad… that you don't want to go… Cheshire."

* * * * *

"They're very cute together - not that one, the one that's actually dead! I agree with your view of Alice."

"Oh. Yes, I see." Jonathan stopped from cutting the wrong rose for the third time in a row. "They were kissing when I walked in, Cheshire was practically on top of him. However, I wouldn't be surprised if it's still a while until they fully admit it. Cheshire doesn't want to be hurt again, and Tetch - well, Tetch doesn't like to admit being wrong about anything, and he used to take quite a stand on his feelings for Alice."

"The problem is, he didn't get it over with when he was younger," said Jeanette, gathering up several dead roses and dumping them in a bag. "It's natural to think you've fallen in love with someone when you're somewhere in you're your teens or early adulthood, and eventually you get over it, but if you never have it happen until you're older it can hit very hard."

Jonathan raised an eyebrow. "You seem to be knowledgeable of human relationships."

"You have to be, in my position."

"What position?"

She looked beyond him and pointed. "The position in which I have to give advice to people with problems and help them every hour of the day and night."

He turned and saw through the bar in the gate in the wall a young man walking towards the house. He was slim, tall, and beautiful in an almost girl-like fashion, with a pointed, delicate chin, huge blue eyes, and light blonde hair pulled up in a messy topknot. His clothes were just as strange, long robes with small silver buckles fastening them up the front and a gold belt.

"Ho boy…" Jonathan heard Jeanette murmur, then she was at the gate. "Raenef! Rae! Get in here, now!"

Raenef spotted her and his face lit up with the most sparkling smile that the Scarecrow had ever seen, even including Harley. "Miss Cameron," he exclaimed in a voice that was still soprano and sweet, hurrying forward. "I'm so glad you're here!"

"It's good to see you again too, Rae." She gave him a quick, one-armed hug and the Scarecrow's desire to gas the boy suddenly increased.

"You're here to check on Leeche again aren't you? I'll go get the crystal ball ready," Jeanette said and hurried inside, leaving a scowling Scarecrow on one side and Raenef humming a little tune to himself on the other. After a minute, the boy's sweet soprano lifted into the air again.

"Who are you?"

"The Scarecrow, Master of Fear, Lord of Despair," answered the Scarecrow short-temperedly. "Who are _you?"_

"Me? Oh, I'm the Scary and Ancient Demon Lord Raenef," the boy answered with a disarming smile. "I'm evil… well, I try."

The Scarecrow was still gazing at him open-mouthed when Jeanette came back. "The ball's ready," she said to Raenef. "Just tell it 'Leeche' and it'll start up."

"Thanks!" He skipped inside and Jeanette tapped the Scarecrow on the shoulder. "Snap out of it, Jon."

He closed his mouth abruptly and asked "Do you usually deal with lunatics?" in a strangled voice.

Jeanette's mouth twitched. "I'm going to stand here and smile until you realize what you just said."

There was a long pause, broken by Jervis asking "Who are you?" from inside, the demon's answer, and Jervis' unfazed reply. "Pleased to meet you. I'm the Mad Hatter." Then Jonathan gave an "Ohhh" of light dawning.

"Yes, I wondered when you'd realize," said Jeanette, twisting the top of the waste bag closed. "I knew it would take a minute because, subconsciously, I think you've realized what I've been thinking about for years. There are people who are really insane, but they are few, actually. Too many people are termed insane. For instance, you are called insane, but if you are, why are Sigmund Freud and all the other psychologists that pushed their own strange and often extreme philosophies not termed insane as well? Jervis is called mad, but if he is, why not Tasha Tudor, who preferred to live in the nineteenth century? Poison Ivy is no crazier than all extreme environmentalists, she simply had the courage and inventiveness to take it to the next level. Two-Face is simply a man so frustrated with having to make decisions that he would rather let it all hang on the toss of a coin; he is no stranger than the men that bet their whole fortunes on the outcome of a single horse race. I could continue…"

"I see your point," said Jonathan quietly. "But who was that boy?"

She gave an odd, silvery little laugh. "I, too would probably be termed insane for my religion, the practice of my art, and what I'm about to tell you; that is Demon Lord Raenef the fifth, from what I've nicknamed the _Manga!_ dimension. The _Princess, Princess _song comes from another world in that dimension as well."

It was strange, he thought in an odd, detached way; the birds just kept singing and the sun shining as, in a small walled-in garden, a dark-haired witch pulled down the supports of reality as he listened.

"There are thousands of dimensions, not just three or four. Writers often tap into these dimensions in their inspiring dreams, which means that a lot of stories are corrupted versions of real events in the other universes; for instance, there is a Looking-Glass World - I haven't told Jervis, because I don't think he could quite cope with the reality of it - and there is an Oz, but the real worlds and events are often shockingly different. Did you know that Glinda and the Wizard were trying to trick Dorothy and her companions into killing the rightful ruler of Oz, the West Witch?"

He made a small choking noise, then found his voice. "My dear Miss Cameron, what you are speaking of is simply scientifically impossible!"

"Oh really?" A fighting gleam in her eye, Jeanette leant against the wall. "How?"

25

"She's trying to convince him by having him meet a hobbit." Cheshire reported. "He's saying it's a midget she paid and the feet are fakes."

"How long can those two carry on an argument?" Jervis wondered aloud, folding his paper. Cheshire pounced on it before he could tuck it out of sight. "What's this?"

"It's - it's nothing." He tried to grab it back. "Just, er…"

She unfolded it and gasped. It was a partial sketch of a customer that had come yesterday - a pale, stunningly beautiful young woman with a black pixie cut and golden eyes. Jervis had captured the strange sparkle of her skin in the sun, her mussed hair, graceful stance, and parted lips as she inquired about a wedding dress for her friend in a strange, loose style that was oddly pleasing to the eye ; you might say he had caught the gist of her.

"Wow, this is really cool, Jervis!" Cheshire turned it a little. "Do you have any more drawings?"

"A few…" he admitted. "You really like it?"

"Yep! Can I see the others?"

There was Poison Ivy, her loosely sketched body melting into the suggestions of vines she was surrounded by; one of Ventriloquist that made Cheshire shiver, because it looked as if the puppet and his arm were joined; the Scarecrow frozen in the middle of a gesture, his hands wide, palms up, and at last one of Cheshire herself, lovingly portrayed asleep curled up in the window seat, _Wonder-Tales _half fallen out of her relaxed hand and her knees pulled up to her chest.

"They're really good, Jervis. I didn't know you could draw!" commented Cheshire, coming to the end of the few sheets.

"I don't much… I didn't think they were any good. They aren't very good likenesses…"

"Well, not exactly in face," said Cheshire thoughtfully, looking them over again "but you get the - the _idea _of the person. I like them." She leant against him, and he let her, enjoying her touch.


	5. Three Eventful July Days

**C-can it be? Another chapter of Tea and Sypmathy?**

**Hey, I just rhymed without meaning to! Sorry you had to wait so long, but I've been very busy. Hope you enjoy this chapter.**

**Disclaimer: Magneto: BOW BEFORE ME, INFERIOR!**

**Me: Knock it off and do the disclaimer. **

**Mags: WHAT'S A DISCLAIMER?**

**Me: Well, it's - hold on, why are you talking in all caps?**

**Mags: ER…**

**Me: Nevermind… (makes Magneto vanish) Okay, this one is long. Things that I use that don't belong to me are: WCMI, which belongs to the amazing Bri-chan; the Bartimeus Trilogy, which belongs to Jonathan Stroud… I think… Pirates of the Caribbean, which belongs to Disney; **_**Stupid Boy, **_**which belongs to Keith Urban; and I think that's it. If I missed anything, that doesn't mean I got the rights for my birthday. My birthday isn't even here yet. **

**Cameos in last chapter: Harry Potter, Dorothy Gale from the Oz books, the young woman from the song **_**Scarborough Fair, **_**and the Hatter Madigan from **_**The Looking-Glass Wars. **_**The reason I said he's an great man is because in **_**The Looking-Glass Wars **_**he's the bodyguard of the White Queen, and when she is killed and the Princess Alyss is lost in our world during a raid by the hag Redd, he spends thirteen years of untiring searching over the entire world for the young princess. The series belongs to Frank Beddor. **

**Read, enjoy, and leave a review - in whatever order you prefer. And appearance of an old acquaintance of Jervis' (wink wink) lots of Cheshire/Jervis fluff, a development in their relationship, and some back/forth between the Js. Here we go…**

July

4

"_Let freedom ring!" _Jeanette's heels tapped the kitchenette floor as she spun around in a one-woman dance. _"Let the white doves sing! Let the whole world know that today is a day of reckoning!"_

"Is it healthy to enjoy an American patriotic holiday this much while in England?" Jervis whispered to Cheshire as they watched her preparing food.

"Hmm," was Cheshire's reply. She sounded a little depressed, and Jervis looked anxiously at her.

"Darling, what's wrong?"

She shrugged. "Well… it's been a while. England is really nice, but I kinda miss Gotham…"

Jervis restrained from hitting himself on the head. Being English himself, he had not thought of Cheshire's getting homesick.

"If you want, we can go back in a few days."

Her face lit up. "Really?"

"Yes. There's just one last thing I want to do… I'll see if I can arrange it tonight."

"What? What?"

"You'll see, my dear."

Jonathan interrupted by stumbling down the steps, several scribbled-over papers clutched in his hands and a wild yet triumphant gleam in his eye. "It took all night," he rasped at Jeanette, ignoring the Hatter and Cheshire "but I disproved your calculations!"

Jeanette put down the spoon she had been conducting 'The Star-Spangled Banner' with and trotted over. "Let's see." She snatched the papers and scanned them. After a minute her mouth began twitching, then she handed the papers back and headed back to the kitchenette, merely remarking, in the quietest of tones, "You had seven times four equal twenty-five in column four."

The Scarecrow let out a growl of frustration, hitting his head, then shot back up the stairs muttering to himself. "Don't wear yourself out!" Jeanette called cheerfully after him, then went back to cooking.

* * * * *

"Can I look now?"

Jervis chuckled, keeping his gloved hand over her eyes. "No, my dear. Just a little longer." He guided her carefully through a couple more streets, then took her hand away. "Here we are…"

Chesire's jaw dropped. "Oh. My. God." She stumbled back, trying to take in all of it at once. "That has got to be the biggest Ferris wheel I've ever seen."

Jervis smiled, taking her hand. "It's called the London Eye. I believe it is the biggest Ferris wheel in the world since the first was dismantled; the cars can each hold twenty-five people. However, I managed to get us a semi-private car."

"Semi?"

"One other couple. Better than twenty-three other people, though."

She surprised him by hugging him, her arms around his shoulders and her head resting lightly on his chest. "Thanks, Jervis." A second later, however, she was back to her usual chirpy self. "I wonder who the other couple is?"

Their question was answered in a few minutes.

"_Jeanie? Professor Crane?"_

The other pair looked just as shocked. "Er… h-hello, Tetch!" said the Scarecrow quickly, shifting away from Jeanette and trying to make it look as if they had just happened to come into the car at the same time. "We - I didn't know…"

"Excuse me for a moment, Cheshire." The Hatter grabbed Jonathan by the sleeve and pulled him to the side as the girls entered the car. "Listen, Jonathan. You don't say anything about me, I won't say anything about you. Deal?"

The Scarecrow nodded. "I think I'll just pretend we're alone in the compartment."

* * * * * *

"It looks almost like Wonderland!" Cheshire sighed rapturously, pressing against the glass and looking down at the glittering map of London at night. "Now I can understand why you miss this place so much when you're away from it…"

"And I understand why you miss Gotham." Tenitavely, Jervis took her hand and she returned the gentle grip. "They have a different kind of magic…"

_And there's not just the place, _Cheshire found herself thinking, _it's because he's here. But… I don't know whether I can say it. _Even after their kiss, she was uncertain that she wanted to commit again; her soul was still healing from the last time.

Jonathan was feeling nervous for the first time since third grade as he stole sideways glances at the young woman standing next to him. Jeanette was wearing a burgundy skirt and even darker red blouse, but the clinging crocheted jacket she wore was pure, glittering gold, and her loose dark hair was braided with more gold and red. She appeared absorbed with the city spread out at her feet like a velvet cloth sprinkled with crystals - _when did he start getting poetic? - _but he could almost _feel _her attention directed towards him. Again, he asked himself what he was thinking when he had asked her if there was anywhere she wanted to go and again he tried to think of a 'logical' explanation, but could find none.

Jeanette tilted her head to the side, feeling the Scarecrow's eyes on her, giving her the autumn-chill tingle that she had felt when she first met him. Now she was almost sure, it was him… the forseeing she had had almost twelve years back, during her quicker dimension-hopping…

"_What are you doing?" Jay-rick, another young padawon, leaned over her shoulder as she laid out the cards. _

_The sixteen-year-old Jeanette smiled up at the young boy. "Telling my future, Jay." She began to point out the cards. "That's financial. The Empress - abundance. This card is lifestyle - the Fool. Always traveling, learning new things. Home - the Hermit. I'll have to search a long time to find it. And this is, well -" A faint blush suffused the girl's cheeks. "Love. The King of Wands."_

"Are you a fire sign?"

Jonathan blinked. "Beg pardon?"

"What's your sign?"

He lifted an eyebrow. "Shouldn't I be delivering the pickup lines, if there are any to be delivered?"

"C'mon, Jonny." She pouted, turning around and looking up at him. "Are ya?"

With the sneaking suspicion that she was doing a Harley impression, he relented. "I believe so."

"Ah." She said nothing more, but after a few minutes leant her head on his shoulder. He let it stay there.

"Are there any English superheroes?" Harley inquired, snuggling into the front of Jervis' coat and yawning a little. They were near the end of the ride, and her eyelids were growing heavy.

Jervis searched his memory; he had had a conversation with Jeanette on the subject only a few days earlier. "I do not think there are in this dimension, but in the Marvel dimension there are a few. I believe Jeanette mentioned a 'Captain Britain'-" Jervis did not bother to keep the contempt out of his voice, who had a large enough ego that they would name themselves after a whole country? - "And a 'Union Jack', or something of that sort."

Cheshire giggled.

"What is it, my dear?"

"You know the Joker's name is Jack? I just pictured the Joker wearin' a flag."

Jervis grimaced. "Cheshire!"

"_With _other clothes, with other clothes!"

They laughed themselves breathless.

* * * * * *

When they reached Jeanette's door Cheshire and Jervis stayed outside for a moment as the other two exchanged meaningful glances and went in. Cheshire looked at the ground, a blush coloring her cheeks.

"Jervis, I - I've been thinking, and… I think it would be best to settle, before we go back to Gotham, what we're going back _as_."

Jervis felt a slight shiver of nervousness go through him. He had never heard her speak so seriously before, except when confessing that she did not love the Joker.

"As?"

"Y'know what I'm talking about." She looked up, her blue eyes apprehensive. "And _somebody _has to say it."

Jervis' heart sped up and he bit his lip. "Cheshire, we have only been together for four months -"

"But not _together!" _she interrupted, shocking him when he saw tears in her eyes. Like the morning she had left the Joker, in the late evening her inhibitions seemed to have broken down. She was almost sobbing as she went on. "Please Jervis - I need to know - I need to know how you feel about me! I need to know if you want me! P-please -" Almost unconsciously Jervis had gathered her into his arms, and her face was not an inch from his as she finished, in a voice scarcely more than an anguished whisper. "I- I need to know if you… if you love me… because - because I love you, Jervis."

His chest tightened in an almost painful emotion between joy and fierce, aching love. A flash of anger blazed through him as he remembered how badly treated Cheshire had been, then a soft glow surmounted all; she loved him back.

"I…" Why, at all times, must his voice fail him now? Her tearstained face was uplifted to him with a shadow of hope, and suddenly a snippet of song he had heard from Jeanette earlier drifted into his mind.

_What do you say in a moment like this?_

_When you can't find the words to tell it like it is_

He uncertainly cupped her chin in his hands, still unable to speak.

_Just bite your tongue and let your heart lead the way_

He leaned gently in towards her, and their mouths met as his hands slid over her shoulders to rest on the back of her waist and her arms settled around his neck, slim fingers tangling in his yellow hair.

_Let's get out of here_

_Oh, what do you say?_

* * * * * *

"Finally." Jeanette let the curtain fall and looked over to Jonathan, who was sitting by the fire nursing a mug of cider. "It looks like they might be admitting it."

He took another sip. "Hm. Ten to one that they'll pretend nothing happened in the morning."

She grinned. "You're on."

July

5

Jervis set down his teacup firmly. "Miss Cameron - Jonathan - as Cheshire and I are leaving for Gotham today, we thought it best to tell you - well…"

"We are together now," piped up Cheshire, a grin faintly reminiscent of Harley Quinn flashing over her face.

Jonathan's mouth fell open, but he was distracted by Jeanette's truly evil laugh. "Jeanette?"

"Our little ten-to-one deal, don't you remember?" She rubbed her chin. "Now I get to decide ten _what…"_

The new couple looked from the Scarecrow to the witch, nonplussed as Jonathan paled visibly.

"What do you mean, ten to one what?"

"You didn't specify, Professor," was the sweet-voiced answer. "Now let's see… giant chocolates? Nah, don't need to gain any weight. Heads of superheroes? Too messy…"

"Do you have any idea what they're talking about?"

"No." Jervis poured her a cup of tea. "At least Jonathan is distracted enough that our news probably won't hit him until we're far enough away that we can't hear the screams."

Cheshire giggled. "Hey, you made a joke!"

"So I did."

"Well, ya just never used to." She entwined the hand that wasn't full of teacup with his, looking at him. "You're happier now."

He pressed the hand to his lips. "Because of you, my dearest."

"Ten kisses. To be collected when I want them."

The Scarecrow stared at her with his mouth hanging open. "Wha… wha…"

"And since I don't want them all at once, I'll have to come with you!" she finished brightly, heading out of the room. "I better call up some friends and get them to take care of the shop."

"Well, that was sudden," Jervis murmured, then turned to Jonathan with a twinkle in his eye. "What's the matter? Don't you like her?"

"Gnyah…" was the professor's eloquent reply. He was staring off into space with a frozen expression.

"Jus' a minute," Cheshire said, jumping up from the table and following Jeanette into the next room to listen to the conversations.

"Hello? Is this Obi-wan? Luke? Who the heck are you? Well yeah I'm rude, where's Obi? Dead? Darnit… never mind." She dialed another number. "Live long and prosper… may I speak to Captain Kir- dead? Sheesh… no, it's nothing you did. Goodbye. Man, the death rate has really jumped…" (dial) "Fly with you! May I speak to Tink? Oh, thank heavens she's not dead… Hi, Tink? Are you free to - Peter needs you for what? Oh. It's okay, I'll find someone else." Jeanette flipped through a small book for a minute, then called another number. "Dumbledore? What the… McGonagall? What - HE'S DEAD TOO? AAARGH!" She hung up and glared at the phone. "I must know some people who aren't dead…" She tried another number. "Reginald? Are you - you're getting married? To who? Oh, yeah, Alice." Cheshire's jaw dropped. "Good luck. Bye…" She hung up and glanced at Cheshire. "A different Alice. Now let's see… I'll try Bartimeus. Kitty? Hi, is Nate - _he's dead? _Damnit! And why do you sound so old? Oh. Could you get someone to summon Bartimeus? Thanks, I'll wait." She put the phone down and sighed. "Jeez, fall out of touch with people for a few years and everybody dies or gets married or something…"

After a minute she picked it back up. "Barty, hi. Would you mind looking after the shop for a bit? Oh, c'mon… fine. O wise and ace and wonderful Bartimeus, will you look after my shop? _Thank _you." Jeanette groaned, wiping a strand of hair out of her face. "Just one more, Barty can't go unsupervised," she assured Cheshire, then called another. "Hello, is Will there? Elizabeth? Where is Will… oh. Only _once? _Every _ten _years? Bummer. Can you get Jack on the line? He's expected by in four years? Put him on when he gets there." She covered the mouthpiece and explained to Cheshire. "Different time zones and flows. Jack! You low-down mangy son of a pirate, how've you been? Still _Captain _Jack Sparrow? Good, good. Would you mind a bit of semi-honest work? No, it won't kill you. Not sure… you can swindle people if you really want to. Thanks, Jack."

Cheshire still looked slightly shell-shocked, so Jeanette snapped her fingers in front of her face. "C'mon, Jervis should have gotten Jonathan at least articulate enough to scream by now and I need to pack."

July 

6(barely)

"Why do we have to leave at three in the morning?" Cheshire complained, yawning as the foursome headed towards Kensington Gardens.

"If you want to launch Batman's plane in broad daylight-" Jeanette pointed out.

"Oh. Good point."

Jonathan still looked faintly in shock, and kept darting nervous glances at Jeanette, and Jervis kept on stopping to look at things, having to be called to, but they finally got all four of themselves and their luggage into the Bat-Plane (barely) and took off.

"Tetch, stop jabbing your elbow into me!"

"It's not my fault, this plane isn't meant to hold more than three people _without _bags!"

* * * * *

"-I'm almost down to thinking we'll have to check London." Batman sighed heavily. "This is the worst - or best, considering how you look at it - team-up I've ever gone against. Worse than Harley and Ivy."

Robin gaped over his shoulder at the screen. "What's that?"

Batman spun around and his mouth fell open as well.

Across a main screen, that showed a section of sky, streaked an oddly familiar object. A strangled noise rose from Robin's throat, but it was Batgirl who was able to speak when she came up behind them and saw it.

"_What did they do to our plane?"_

The ex-Batplane was now painted like a patchwork quilt in crazy blue, green, red, purple and yellow. It was flying strangely too, in an oddly erratic pattern.

Batman and Robin flew out of their chairs and towards the Batmobile at once, and Batgirl lingered for but a moment more to ask another question as she stared at the screen.

"Why the heck are they flying like that?"

* * * * * *

"NO, LEFT, LEFT! LEFT YOU IDIOT GIRL!"

"It never hurt anyone to be polite, Professor - oof! And it's KINDA HARD TO FLY THIS JUNKHEAP WITH PEOPLE BANGING INTO YOU ALL THE TIME!"

"Can't help it, Cheshire! The Hatter's taking up a lot of space!"

"I CAN'T LET MY HAT BE CRUSHED!"

"TETCH!"

"It's my only hat!"

"I thought you had a collection!"

"They're not mine! I'm a Hatter!"

"Oh, good lord…"

"THERE'S OUR STOP!"

Elbowing Jeanette in the side, Cheshire yanked on the control column and the plane dove sharply, then leveled out as they coasted over one of the worse parts of Gotham.

"Where are we stayin' again?"

"Toy factory!" Jonathan called back. "I have a bit of a deal with the manager, and we have the whole back section, with all the rejected dolls, toys and the like. We're dipping down among the buildings _there-" _he indicated with a thin finger "-to test Tetch's improvements on the plane."

"Okie-doke! Hold on to your hats, we're goin' down!"

They dove steeply until they were hidden by buildings, then the Scarecrow shouted "NOW!" Jeanette pressed a blue button.

First the plane began to shimmer all over, then slowly faded from sight. The windshield glossed over, becoming faintly blue; the passengers could still see the interior of the plane, but the video feeds Jervis had hacked into showed nothing but litter shifting as the plane flew silently by. Jeanette found the control rod shoved into her hands as Cheshire twisted around in her seat to plant a kiss on Jervis' cheek. He turned bright red and muttered something about that it had been Jonathan who gave him the original idea; Cheshire ignored his protest and had just taken back control when she spotted something.

"Hello hello hello! If it isn't 'Mistah J' on his morning constitutional!" Her voice changed to curiousity as she brought the plane a little closer. "Who's that girl with him?"

Jervis frowned. "She looks familiar…"

"Let's touch down!"

The Scarecrow glared at Jeanette. "You are not technically a member of the Gallery, therefore your ideas -"

She grabbed the front of his shirt and kissed him on the mouth. He froze in shock, giving Cheshire time to concede the idea and find a place around the turn of a building to land.

* * * * *

"Oh Jo-ker?"

The Joker and the strange girl both looked up at Cheshire's singsong. The girl's mouth dropped open and she looked ready to faint, and the Joker looked ready to boil over for a second before his trademark grin appeared.

"Well, well, Hat. I wondered when you were coming back." He glanced at the girl half behind him. "I ran into an old acquaintance of yours while you were gone…"

"Oh really?" Jervis leant on the sword-cane he had procured from Jeanette's store. "Who?"

The Joker's grin dropped; for once he looked truly astonished. "You mean you don't recognize her?" He pulled the girl out from behind him, and Cheshire gave a squeal of indignation as she fully realized what she was wearing.

"That's my old costume!"

"She has your room, too," the Joker said cheerfully. "Fills up your place perfectly. You _sure _you don't recognize her?" He sounded almost pleading.

"Sorry, no."

The Joker glared sulkily at him, then turned to the girl. "Say something, pumpkin pie."

She blinked. "What do you want me to say, sweetie?"

Jervis' eyes went wide and his jaw dropped. "Good Lord! _Alice?"_

Cheshire's eyes went narrow. "Lemme at 'er!"

Alice looked frazzled and didn't say anything. The Joker moved her to the side as if she was an inconvenient piece of furniture and folded his arms. "Nice to see your memory hasn't _completely _failed, Hat."

"Your taste in men has seriously declined since we knew each other, Alice."

"You're - you're not upset?" The Joker's tone was rather hurt. The Hatter hadn't sounded even annoyed - more _amused! _He didn't like situations where he couldn't see the joke.

"Er… could we go now?" Alice put in uncomfortably as the Scarecrow and Jeanette rounded the corner.

"We got tired of waiting in the… oh, it's the squeaky girl."

"You know her, Jonathan?"

"Robbed the place once - she wouldn't stop screeching. You have no idea, Joker; two months of that girl's voice and you'll be wishing you hadn't hooked her."

The Joker began to look nervous. Alice frowned. "Hey, don't talk to my sweetie like that!"

Jervis leant forward. "I'm curious, Alice; why the Joker? What happened to the boy? I mean, he was a cad, but the Joker is _more _of a cad."

She looked nervous and retreated partially behind the Joker. "After Billy dumped me, Jackie showed up and told me he loved me…"

"…And you believed him. Ah." Jervis glanced at the Joker. "The phrase 'too stupid to live' comes to mind…"

The Joker tossed a laughing gun into the air and lazily caught it again. "Are you occupied, or do you have-"

"Enough Time for a fight?" The sword blade slid out of its wood covering and glistened in the air. Jonathan adjusted his toxin dispensers, Jeanette rubbed her fingertips together, building energy, and Cheshire looked ready to take on all and sundry with her bare hands. "I believe we _all_ do."

* * * * *

"Ouch! Ow! Let go of me!" Alice writhed, trying to get away, but Cheshire twisted her arms behind her back with a bit of unnecessary force as Jeanette searched in her bag and the three men battled in the background.

"Now this," Jeanette said, grinning as she brought out a small vial of dark red powder, "should fully give everyone what they deserve."

Uncorking it, she sprinkled it over the struggling blonde girl, who sneezed mutiple times and then shrieked as the powder seemed to melt into her skin.

"SHE POISONED ME! I'M GOING TO DIE!"

"Oh, shut up," snapped Cheshire. "It's harmless… well, in one sense of the word. It is time-release, right?" she added in an aside to Jeanette.

"Yep. One o' clock a.m tomorrow; nobody but the Joker should be around then." Jeanette wrinkled her nose as she glared at the sniveling girl. "You can put her back now."

Cheshire dropped her and whistled. "Hey, Jervis! Justice is served, you and Jonny can quit beatin' up the clown any minute now!"

Jonathan glanced up. "Oh, I quit, but Tetch seems to be enjoying himself."

The Joker staggered backwards as another blow smashed into his face, landing against the side of the building. The Hatter crouched down to his level, his dark blue eyes as hard and cold as ice, and grabbed the front of his purple jacket.

"I've _long _waited," the Englishman snarled "to pay you back for what you have done." Grabbing the Joker's long chin, he twisted his head so he had to look at Cheshire, who downcast her eyes and rubbed her arms nervously. Jervis leant closer, hissing so that only the Joker could hear him. "It has been but four months since _your _treatment of her brought Cheshire crying to my door, and in that short time I have found her nothing but beautiful, kind, clever and sweet. For years - for many years - you held this beauty in your hands, and you do nothing but _mistreat _and _abuse _it." The Hatter's grip tightened on the clown's collar, his hands shaking with rage. "You _cur. _You - you held an _angel - _and you did nothing but break her wings."

Suddenly a soft voice rang into the air. The three men and two other women turned, startled, to Jeanette, who was standing in the middle of the street singing as if she was in a musical.

"_She was precious - precious like a flower._

_She grew wild - wild but innocent. _

_A perfect prayer in a desperate hour_

_She was everything beautiful and different…"_

Her venomous hazel eyes fixed on the Joker.

"_Stupid boy, you can't fence that in!_

_Stupid boy, it's like holding back the wind!_

_She laid her heart and soul in your hands_

_And you stole her every dream and crushed her plans_

_She never even knew she had a choice, and that's what happens when the only voice_

_She hears is telling her she can't - stupid boy, stupid boy…"_

Jervis stood, dropping the Joker as if he was something that soiled his gloves, and turned to Cheshire, offering her his arm. She took it without looking at the Joker, and they walked together out of sight around the corner. Jeanette waved Jonathan on with a "I'll be there in a sec," and squatted down by the Joker, her eyes narrowed. Alice, huddled against the wall nearby, heard what she whispered.

"_So what made you think you could take a life_

_And just push it, push it around?_

_I guess to build yourself up so high_

_You had to take her and break her down…"_

The Joker gasped as he felt a spark of pain on his arm. Jeanette resheathed her knife and stood, turning and walking away, her voice fading as the Joker looked down at the cuts on his arm - exact replicas of Harley's.

"_It took her a while for her to figure out she could run_

_But when she did she was long, long gone…"_

After a minute the Joker scrambled to his feet, glowering after the witch, and set off with Alice trailing uncertainly in his wake.

* * * * *

It took the rest of the day to find the place they were staying (they had seen the Batmobile several times, but the cloaking device had held strong) and by the time they had settled in, it was late at night. Jonathan and Jeanette retired to their separate rooms, but Cheshire and Jervis lingered downstairs, not really looking at each other. After a long moment, a soft whisper broke the stillness. "Thank you again, Jervis."

The Englishman looked up, slightly surprised. "What?"

She turned towards him, a faint smile on her lips but a few tears in her eyes. "I heard what you said to the Joker."

"Oh." He looked slightly embarrassed. "Well, it was true…"

Cheshire laughed a little and came toward him, stopping an inch or two from him. "Thank you, though… the point is, nobody has ever _said _it before." Her hand rested gently on his chest, sending a sharp shiver through his body. Gently, his gloved hand reached up to cover it. "Cheshire -" he began, only to find himself silenced by her finger on his lips.

"Shh," she whispered, leaning closer. Their noses were almost touching, then her lips brushed over his with a feather-light caress. He held himself back, and she looked at him with something akin to disappointment, then let her body press against his. He swallowed dryly. "Cheshire, I don't -"

"Please," she said softly, her hands caressing his chest. "I want to… I need to know you want me - please, Jervis!"

He gave in to his instincts and her pleading, letting his arms encompass her. She gave a soft, delighted gasp before his mouth claimed hers again and again, one of his hands on the small of her back, holding her against him, and the other resting on the back of her neck. Cheshire's hands roamed over his back and sides before sliding up to his chest again, separating them for just a moment, time enough for her to look up at him. "Please…" she whispered again, then glanced towards the stairs.

Jervis let her draw him towards the stairs, only pausing by the bottom to pull his gloves off and toss them carelessly on a nearby table, leaving his hands bare to run through her hair. He sighed with pleasure as he felt the silky softness on his skin. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that…" he murmured, kissing her again. She smiled.

"You can tell me in your room, no?"

* * * * *

Jonathan Crane tossed and turned in bed. Usually he slept easily, because he slept little, but the present night was making him wonder whether the saying _A guilty conscience never sleeps well _had any truth to it.

Finally giving up and getting out of bed, he decided to go down to the makeshift kitchen; however, when he got to the door he heard soft singing and realized he was not alone in his objectives.

"_Highwayman, highwayman_

_What do you dream?_

_Are you a gentleman, serving the Queen?_

_Are you a rich man, servants by your side?_

_Or do you dream of another man's bride?"_

After a minute the girl's voice added "You can come in, Jonathan."

Cursing the girl's uncanny senses, he pushed open the door. Jeanette was making herself some hot chocolate on the camp stove, and smiled at him when he came in. "Want some?"

He shrugged. "All right."

She added another cup of milk and stirred, giving him time to look her over quickly. Her dressing gown was white, smooth padded material with dragons stitched on the outside, and the gap of material at her neck that revealed her nightgown showed it to be a light lavender silk trimmed with black lace. Her dark hair was loose down her back, coming almost to her waist, and her lips proved to be a soft silvery pink without lipstick.

"So, what brings you down?" Jeanette asked, glancing over at him and noting things even as she spoke. Simple, loose black pajamas - thick red robe tied loosely around him - _no matter what he might say, he doesn't like himself, _Jeanette thought as she retrieved two of her mugs from the cupboard.

He shrugged. "Couldn't sleep." _Hmm… she obviously likes herself, but not to the point of vanity or narcissism, and she seems to have a strong maternal instinct for people in trouble. _Finished with his quick appraisal, he rose and began wandering around the room. Moving into the part that served more as a main room and held the stairway, he stopped by a table and picked something up from it. "H'm. Jeanette?" he called softly, holding up a pair of Jervis' white gloves, crumpled and obviously pulled off in a hurry. She came in, looked at them, met his eyes, then their heads both turned towards the top of the stairs.

"Well, it was only a matter of time," Jeanette said philosophically, heading back into the kitchen area to stir the milk. After a minute he follwed her, sitting down on one of the chairs.

"What was your childhood like?" she suddenly inquired, startling him out of a reverie.

He avoided her gaze. "Relatively normal."

She finished pouring the milk and began adding sugar and cocao powder. "I don't believe you." Her tone was utterly frank.

He crossed his arms. "Is it any of your business?"

"'Mankind is our business', to quote Dickens." She gave him a steaming mug and sat down opposite to him, her delicate eyebrows arched.

He looked down for a long minute, then raised his pale blue eyes to her dark. "It was living hell. Does that answer your question?"

She nodded slightly, her face unreadable. "I will not force you to speak of it."

The conversation soon turned to lighter subjects - what they were going to do next, Jeanette allowing Jonathan to digress onto a rant about the quality (or non-quality) of the food in Arkham; then Jonathan remembered something.

"By the way, what did you and Cheshire do to that girl?"

Jeanette grinned wickedly and pulled a bottle of dark-red powder, now only half-full, from an inside pocket in her night robe. "I was hoping you would ask." She held it so he could read the label.

"Fred n' George's… Super Attraction… Time-Release Powder?" he read out, brow wrinkled. "What - can I look at it?"

She handed it to him, but the bottle, coated with a little oil from another container it had been next to in the pouch, slipped from his thin fingers and smashed on the floor, spraying Jeanette with the faintly glittering powder.

"Oh no…" Jeanette glanced at the clock. It was five seconds to one. "Jon-"

The minute hand touched twelve. Jonathan, who was looking at Jeanette, suddenly blinked and shook his head, then his eyes fixed upon her again with an infatuated expression.

"_Wonderful," _shemuttered. "And I'm not even sure where the antidote is…"

"Jeanette…" The way he said it sounded worshipful. "I never realized how beautiful you were…"

"Sweet, Jon," she answered, looking through her cupboard of herbs, "but whatever you say you're gonna regret in ten minutes."

"How could I ever regret professing my love for you?"

It went on for the next fifteen minutes, until Jeanette finally found 'George n' Fred's Super Removal Potion' in the very back of the cupboard and got a spoonful into the Scarecrow by resorting to batting her eyelashes at him and asking sweetly, cutting him off in the middle of announcing her to be his sun, his moon, his starlit sky.

After the antidote was administered he sank into a chair and closed his eyes for a minute; when he opened them again he looked horrified.

"Back to normal, I see."

"Who made that and where do they live? Their lives are going to make Hell look like a five-star hotel."

She chuckled. "In another dimension. Anyway, they made the antidote as well."

He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, his expression stormy. Jeanette sipped her cocoa quietly and waited for him to recover. After a minute he opened his eyes as an idea dawned upon him, and a wicked (_delightfully wicked, _thought Jeanette) grin raised the corners of his mouth.

"I'd love to see what the Joker's acting like right now…"

* * * * * *

"You are the pinnacle of female perfection, like… like…" the Joker waved the hand that wasn't holding Alice's, trying to form a simile. "… like a really good joke!"

"A _joke?" _Alice turned, a little confused, towards the Riddler on her other side, holding her other hand. "You would refer to this perfect enigma, this - this delightful Chinese puzzle-box of a woman, as a _joke?" _

* * * * * *

"…I just hope that nobody else was around."

"Shouldn't be." Jeanette yawned, stretching, then looked at Jonathan with her eyes twinkling. "We'd better go back to bed…"

He nodded, rising, and was almost out the door when Jeanette caught up with him, stepping in front of him. "…so I'd like number two now."

He scowled, but let her put her hands on his shoulders, raising herself on tiptoe, and closed his eyes as she leant in. Her lips rested on his with scented softness, and his eyes flew open in surprise as the kiss deepened; he had not received one for… he scarcely knew how many years it had been, and he had forgotten how… how…

He let his arms rest gently around her waist as her slim fingers tangled in his orange hair.

… _nice _it was.

A minute later he realized how far they were carrying it and broke quickly, shaking off her hands and stepping back before hastily brushing past her. Jeanette was left looking after him, her dark eyes slightly disappointed.

7

The sun crept over Gotham's horizon as if uncertain whether to return to the city, but when it reached a window to a back room in a certain factory it fairly leapt in, as if eager to examine the odd sight that presented itself.

Cheshire was breathing softly as she lay in the tangled sheets with her arms wrapped around Jervis, a blissful expression on her face even in sleep; her light brown hair tousled and her head resting on his chest. The Hatter's face was relaxed and peaceful, his arm resting around her shoulders, their legs still intertwined.

The sun cast a small ray over Jervis' eyes with an air of clearing its throat; slowly, they opened, squinting against the brightness at first before opening fully as he looked down at Cheshire. He smiled, then gently pushed himself up, lifting her up as well. "Wake up, dearest."

"Hmm?" She let her head fall back drowsily on his chest, her blue eyes blinking slowly. "Tired…"

"I know." He stroked her hair, kissing the top of her head gently; she giggled and nuzzled into his chest, then both of them were disturbed by a sharp rap on the door.

"Tetch? Cheshire? It's almost twelve." The Scarecrow sounded annoyed.

_How did they know we were in the same room? _Cheshire mouthed at Jervis. He shrugged and called out "Five minutes, Jonathan."

"Hm." Footsteps faded into the distance.

Cheshire yawned and gently detached herself from Jervis, swinging her legs out of bed. "So… I guess it's really official now, isn't it?"

He retrieved his hat from the floor and dusted it off. "Indeed."

She frowned slightly as she pulled on her shirt. "Doesn't that mean we'll have to go legit sometime?"

The Hatter shrugged as he rebuttoned his coat. "I do think that the lifestyle of a Rogue is not a very stable one to raise a child in. However, I do not especially dread retirement."

"Well, if ya put it that way…" She looked over at him and frowned. "That costume makes you look dumpy. I gotta ask Jeanie to make it over."

He glanced at his reflection. "Perhaps you're right."

* * * * * *

Batman pinched the bridge of his nose and took another gulp from his cup of coffee, his eyes fixed on the screen as it looped some videos of apparently empty streets where scratches would appear on the walls or litter suddenly drift to the side, shifted by an uncaused breeze. Behind him, Robin yawned, rubbing his eyes. "C'mon Bruce, it isn't even late at night any more, it's tomorrow. It's _been _tomorrow for a while."

The Dark Knight did not answer for a minute, then spoke in a strained voice. "It has become apparent that Tetch somehow invented a subtance that bends light rays instead of absorbing them or bouncing them back. But how…?"

Robin slumped against the wall. "Bruce, you're a billionaire. All you have to do is buy another plane."

"And leave the Hatter, the Scarecrow, the Cheshire Cat, and whoever that other girl was running around Gotham in an invisible plane?"

Robin shrugged. "Fine, what do _you _suggest?"

"Generally, there's a very few types of places the Rogues hide out…"

* * * * * *

"Jonny, c'mon and be sociable!"

The Scarecrow groaned and turned around from the desk in the main room to glare at the others, seated around the small fireplace Jeanette had found behind the plaster wall and cleaned out; Jeanette had Jervis' coat in her lap, stitching it together in a different style after cutting it up, Jervis was tinkering with a microchip, and Cheshire was re-re-re-re-reading _The Hunting Of The Snark. _

"I am attempting to think of a good plot. After being inactive for a month -"

"It's gotta be a doozy, I know," Jeanette interrupted, taking a few pins out of her mouth. "But you might get more ideas if you aren't trying to block everything out. Thinking hard isn't always the answer."

Deciding he wasn't going to get any peace either way, Jonathan took his notebook and pen over to the fireplace. Jeanette smiled at him as he sat down, cutting off a thread.

"You know, I could remake your costume if you wanted. Just a few small adjustments," she offered. "It's pretty good, but if you really want to inspire terror…"

"Depends. I'd like to see how you remake Tetch's costume first."

She looked up from restiching a hem, frowning slightly. "Why do you call him Tetch?"

"What?"

"Why _do_ you call me Tetch, Jonathan?" Now Jervis was looking up, and Cheshire had closed her book. "You call the Joker the Joker and most others by their chosen names as well, but you always called me Tetch."

Jonathan looked from one to the other. "If I had known I was going to be mobbed, I wouldn't have come over."

"C'mon Jonny, just answer the question!" Cheshire pouted.

The Scarecrow sighed. "Well, when he first came to the asylum he was in a bad way…"

Cheshire made a face. "Yeah, I remember."

"He seemed to be almost constantly adrift in his own mind, residing in a place completely distant from reality. So, I began calling him by his mundane last name to try and bring him down, in a sense." He shrugged. "It's just a habit by now."

The others considered for a moment, then Jeanette nodded. "All right. Maybe you could try to break it, though; I don't like it much."

Jonathan muttered something unintelligible and started scribbing in his notebook. The four kept companionable silence for a few minutes, then Jeanette snipped off a thread and held up the coat. "That's finished. Try it on, Jervis?"

He stood and accepted it, pulling it on; Cheshire hopped to her feet and buttoned the last few buttons for him, straightening his bow tie. She placed a soft kiss on his cheek and stepped back, then her mouth fell open. "Wow… Jervis, you look _snazzy!"_

(A/N: You wanna see the pic that shows what his costume looks like now, follow this link: .com/art/Jervis-Tetch-76766581)

Jeanette leant back slightly with her hands behind her head, grinning. "Well, Jonathan?"

He scowled slightly. The coat did look better, but he felt slightly annoyed at Jeanette proving to be right more often than him. "Hm."

"It is an excellent job, Miss Cameron," the Hatter said, looking in the nearby mirror. "You have my deepest gratitude."

The witch waved a dismissive hand. "Nah, it's nothing. Favor for a friend. I should be done with the rest of the costume tomorrow."

"Thank you." He shrugged it off and folded it up carefully, hanging it over the arm of a chair, then sat back down, cross-legged. Yawning like a sleepy cat, Cheshire settled down next to him and he put his arm around her, running his gloved fingers gently through her hair. She smiled, half-closing her eyes and stroking her hand gently down his chest in a soothing, repetitive motion.

"So Jon, can I at least sketch a redesign?"

Jonathan sighed. "Will you leave me alone if I let you?"

"Yes."

"Fine then."

**Three **_**very **_**eventful days. R&R please? I'm aiming for at least getting to 20. If I do, I will try to update within the month. **


End file.
